The Token
by catgirlutah
Summary: Set after Pirates of the Caribbean 3 in what I'll call an alternate universe to prevent being pelted with rocks by Will fans, see what happens to Elizabeth when she hears four small words concerning William Turner. JE
1. Chapter One: The Accident

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be using these characters.

_Author's Note (10/02/06)_: First of all, I do not know what's going to happen in the third Pirates movie. This is all speculation. Secondly, I know it's short in comparison to my other fanfics, but it needs to be short. Thirdly, I promise to update quickly if you leave a review. Fourthly…er…oh, right. I got this idea while playing the Sims 2. Hope you enjoy it! And, remember, I will put up the next chapter (which I've already got written) if you leave me lovely reviews.

**Chapter One: The Accident**

A large quaking aspen tree stood next to the modest brick house situated on the outskirts of Port Royal. Its shimmering leaves were turning yellow in the warm Caribbean sunlight, contrasting sharply with the rest of the tropical foliage. The tree, which bore the initials A.J. and B.S., was planted by Anton James before he started construction on his new home years ago. An immigrant from the colony of Rhode Island and a budding horticulturalist, Anton had brought numerous plants indigenous to the New World to his new home in the Caribbean. All of the other plants had died, unable to adjust to a climate that was perpetually warm except when being battered by a hurricane, but the aspen had flourished.

The white bark of the aspen made the beige house particularly dull in the intense sunlight. It was far from the most decorated or grandiose building in town, but the moment one crossed the threshold, it felt like home. Often, visitors caught whiffs of mostly burned experimental meals lingering near the chartreuse pillows atop a threadbare and meticulously clean couch. There were two levels and only four rooms in the simplistic home, but it seemed larger. To make the most of the limited space, the kitchen, parlor, and dining room had been married together. They bickered at times, especially when a meal was being created, but generally seemed to get along. The extra room was full of all sorts of intriguing oddities: shiny swords, decorative scimitars, falchions, hammers, fabric, a cradle, rusting cutlasses, broken toys, and an extra straw mattress bedecked with webs and dust. The door was kept shut and locked to that room nearly all the time. The second floor was divided into two rooms as well: one had a reasonably comfortable straw mattress that had just been re-ticked and the other had a goose-down feather mattress that had likely been a wedding present.

There was a woman in one of the upper rooms, hunched over as she picked up clothes strewn carelessly on the floor by her young sons now asleep on the straw mattress. There were dark circles underneath her eyes as she silently straightened to an upright position. She looked lovingly at the young toddler and child that had inherited their father's dark brown hair before heading down the narrow staircase. She deposited her burden inside a washtub she'd already filled. A woman's work truly was never done. Once she finished scrubbing the laundry she would have to start preparing a warm meal for her husband as she kept her four year old from terrorizing the one and a half year old. After that, she would inevitably have to ready her sons for bed before catering to her husband's desires.

She had long since stopped remarking aloud or internally how she hadn't expected life to be this way. It shouldn't have been. She'd been the pampered daughter of a wealthy politician without a care in the world; destined to marry the wealthiest suitor to cross her path until she fell in love with a blacksmith. She'd tossed aside her glorious future for a blacksmith. He hadn't even been able to afford the house when they'd wed. It was a present, somewhat grudgingly given, from her father as her dowry. He refused to offer them further monetary assistance. Fortunately, J. Brown retired and left his entire smithy to his apprentice, her husband. Money wasn't quite as tight as it had been during that first dreadful year as she'd tried to learn homemaking skills while carrying the fruit of their love. Complaining about the difficulty of adopting foreign chores had done nothing to help her, so she'd simply stopped. She was no longer who she had been before her marriage.

As she started to scrub a soiled nappy, a knock at the door startled her. Standing, she dried her hands on her stained apron, brushed a strand of messy blondish-brown hair behind her ear, and walked towards the door. She opened it after another series of knocks, not particularly in the mood to be hit by whoever was knocking. "Yes?" she asked as she stifled a yawn, blinking so she couldn't see who it was.

"Missus Turner-" The unmistakable dulcet tones stopped for a moment as the owner of the voice looked down towards his immaculate boots. "Elizabeth-"

Elizabeth Turner, the beautiful wife of Port Royal's finest blacksmith, felt her heart catch in her throat at the tone of Admiral James Norrington's voice. "What happened?" Her brown eyes widened.

"William…" Norrington paused for a moment before looking up and into Elizabeth's eyes. "There was an accident in the smithy."

"And?" Her voice was as soft as a kitten's step.

"Your husband is dead." His voice was as unemotional as when he directed his officers, but there was a flicker of emotion unmistakably shining in his green eyes.

Elizabeth stared at Norrington. There seemed to be a large church bell ringing right next to her head in tune with a thousand women screaming as her skin tingled and squirmed. The sound of the aspen's leaves, the sound of chirping birds and buzzing flies all stopped as a glass bowl descended upon her face. All feeling stopped. The sun seemed cold. "What?" fell from her lips.

"Your husband is dead," Norrington reiterated. "William." He put his hand comfortingly on her shoulder for a moment. "He died saving the life of his new apprentice. It was a good, honorable death."

"What does that mean?" Elizabeth asked, suddenly assaulted with grief and tears. She seemed to be on fire.

Norrington blinked and moved his back, uncomfortable suddenly. "Your husband pulled his apprentice away from the foundry, shielding him with his own body as it exploded. We're not entirely sure what the catalyst was, but we believe it was something accidentally placed into the fire."

Flashes of images danced across Elizabeth's mind of the apprentice, a young homeless waif. Will had found Kyle on the street and had brought him home, crawling with lice. Elizabeth served him a warm meal and cleaned him up, pleased with Will's generosity. She'd encouraged him to take Kyle to the smithy to learn something. However, Kyle was a very slow learner and caused nothing but anguish for Will as he tried to devise ways to get his point across. "Will sacrificed his life for _him_?"

Norrington seemed not to notice the bitterness in Elizabeth's voice. "The boy will be taken care of, I can assure you Missus Turner." He smiled reassuringly. "Your husband died a hero."

"For Kyle?" Tears washed down Elizabeth's face. That wretch's life was not equal to Will's. Kyle had no one. Will had a family to care for. He had two young boys who were going to grow up without a father and a wife who couldn't bear the burden alone. What were they to do for money? All that Elizabeth had would only last a few months, at the most.

"Yes," Norrington repeated, looking faintly annoyed. "Missus Turner, I want you to know that, should you need assistance, we are poised to give you assistance."

"Does that include my father?" Elizabeth asked, wiping at some of the tears streaming down her face. If she and Admiral Norrington hadn't been on such distant terms, she'd be tempted to melt into his arms and break down. What was she going to do?

Norrington smiled grimly, as he always did, and didn't give a direct answer. He merely shrugged his shoulders. "Governor Swann did express his lament when informed of the matter."

Elizabeth scoffed softly. "I find that no consolation at all." It was still sinking in. She would never see Will again. Her boys would never know their father. Nothing would be the same.

"Rightly so." Norrington's demeanor seemed to soften slightly as he looked at Elizabeth. After the birth of her second child, she'd filled out considerably in contrast to how thin she'd been before. Life had given her a cruel lot. Of course, it was nothing on what life had given him, and he'd made it out alright. "If you ever need anything," he said softly, "please come and visit."

"Thank you." Elizabeth managed a fake smile. She suddenly wanted to be alone. "I shall."

Norrington nodded, regaining his normal composure of having no emotions at all. "I must attend to my duties." Perhaps he sensed her desire to be alone, but he likely just wanted to escape from a potentially worrisome situation.

Elizabeth plastered another sick smile on her face before shutting the door practically in the Admiral's face. Once it was closed, she collapsed onto it, sliding to the floor as sobs wracked her small frame. William Turner, blacksmith extraordinaire, was dead.


	2. Chapter Two: The Funeral

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be using these characters.

_Author's Note (10/03/06)_: I randomly decided to update after receiving three reviews on the first chapter, mostly because I'm so excited to share the interesting part (which isn't particularly this chapter). This is unlike anything I've written before. I'm experimenting with a different writing style, forgive me if it is difficult to follow. The more reviews I receive, the faster the really interesting and dynamic chapter three will be posted.

**Chapter Two: The Funeral**

"He was a good man, Elizabeth." There was a cold kiss on the widow's cheek as she stared at the mound of dirt signifying her husband. She hadn't been able to cry for the past three days as she tried to explain to her innocent children why Papa wasn't coming home and received grieving associates that tried in vain to help her cope with grief. They wouldn't and couldn't understand what she was going through. She'd sacrificed her whole life for his love and now she hated him. If he hadn't been so terribly noble, she wouldn't be alone. Her hatred scared her and she knew she would never be able to express it to another living soul.

The world seemed to pass by extremely slowly during the preparation for the funeral. The actual event took moments. Most of the participants, dressed in black, were already headed home to continue living. Will would never be able to do that. He couldn't get out of the ground. He couldn't put his arm around Elizabeth's waist and caress her cheek. He couldn't do anything. He could care less about what happened to his family because he was gone.

"Yes, I know," she responded tiredly, her mouth set in something solemn to avoid condemnation from the neighbors. They would never understand how dark the day was and how stifling the night. Shifting, expecting someone to be there, and finding no one after a disturbing dream just brought this feeling of emptiness… There seemed to be no balm in sight. Her children hardly brought her comfort as Meredith, her neighbor, said they would. There was so much work to be done and she hardly had the energy to move.

"At least you have the little ones." The kindly and unidentifiable face smiled before drifting to the rest of the blackness. The skies were crying for her husband, but she couldn't.

Elizabeth tilted her head slightly to look at the woman and was surprised to see her gone. She rubbed at her cheek, barely noting how cold her skin was, as her father approached in his finery. "Hello, Father," she said with a respectful curtsy, a look to her eyes that had never been seen before. She seemed empty.

"How are you holding up?" It was clear he still had tender feelings for his daughter though he seemed a bit reserved around her, glancing back and forth to see if anyone was watching.

"I'm alive," she said softly, glancing down at her hands. They were so rough and calloused it made her cringe. What had happened to Elizabeth Swann?

"If you need me to watch my grandsons, Elizabeth, I can." Governor Weatherby Swann smiled very slightly. "I'll never forget what it was like when your mother died. If it hadn't been for your Aunt Eulalie, you probably would've been neglected to the point of starvation."

Elizabeth looked into her father's eyes and suddenly started crying. "Could you?" she asked, enveloping him in an embrace. "I can't do this. I just can't." It was as though the water had finally come up out of the sluice after hours of pumping to get it above the ground. She'd forgotten that her father had gone through the same thing once upon a time. "I'm not strong enough, Papa." She hadn't called him that familiar name in nearly fifteen years.

Weatherby slowly put his arms around her, gently kissing the top of her head. "You are stronger than you realize, Elizabeth. Always have been. You elected to marry Will even though I forbade you to. You threw in your lot with pirates to save him and to do what was right. You've always been so strong."

"I'm so empty," she protested, her voice muffled by his elegant silk shirt's frills. "I've never been so empty." Not even when she'd killed the legendary Jack Sparrow had she been this empty, though it had nearly cleft her heart in twain.

"The pain will lessen, with time." His voice was so consoling and comforting after the years of near silence that she wanted to just hear him speak. He had scarcely seemed excited when his grandsons were born. She could now tell it was all just an act. "It will lessen. I know it doesn't seem as though it will, but it will." He kissed the top of her head again. "It will probably happen when you least expect it, too. I didn't feel as though I could go on until sitting in the library you asked me to read to you. I realized that the pain had lessened. It has never left, nor will it ever, for that would be a disgrace to your mother, but it has lessened."

While that wasn't as comforting as the hollow words everyone else had said, Elizabeth still felt a glimmer of hope appear on the horizon. "What about Patricia?"

Weatherby sighed softly, moving his hand to gently stroke her hair. "She hasn't replaced your mother, Elizabeth. We've been over this." About two months after Elizabeth married Will, Weatherby got engaged to Patricia Benwill, the daughter of a prominent merchant in Port Royal. They'd been married for about four years now. Elizabeth resented Patricia. She was only three years older and had grown up with Elizabeth. The widow couldn't see how it could be true love. Of course, Weatherby seemed far happier now than he'd ever seemed before. "No one could replace her."

A fresh wave of tears made Elizabeth's eyes burn as her chest seemed to swell with pain. "It sure feels like it," she finally admitted aloud. The two had stayed away from each other for this very reason.

"Elizabeth, dove, I never intended to make you feel that way. I just figured…well, you'd be so busy with your new husband you'd never visit." He laughed softly. "It appears I was right. I needed something to stave off the loneliness. You've no idea what it felt like while I didn't know if you were alive or dead…Patricia was a great help."

Elizabeth sobbed, clutching at her father's shoulder blades. "I just…I'm sorry, Papa. I shouldn't have become so upset. I'm such a fool."

"You have never been a fool," Weatherby said adamantly. "You've acted foolishly, of course, but you've never been a fool." He laughed bitterly. "So have I. I should have realized how much you truly loved him. I'm sorry."

Elizabeth couldn't even manage to say anything. All her emotions seemed to catch up to her and they all desperately wanted to come out at the same moment. It hardly seemed fair to go through so many different states at once.

Weatherby gently rubbed her back, as though she were a small child, until she could no longer cry. "I'll take William and John with me, Elizabeth. Go home and relax. I'll send some servants over if-"

"No, Papa," Elizabeth choked out. "I have to…I have to keep doing it all myself."

"Very well." He smiled slightly, gently touching her cheek with his index finger. "You are strong enough to handle this, Elizabeth." He stepped backward, laughing softly at how wet his shirt was. "Come and get them when you feel you're up to it. Patricia and I won't mind having them afoot for the next few weeks, if necessary."

"Thank you, Papa." Elizabeth smiled weakly, looking to her sons. They looked terribly bored in their dark suits. John was in Patricia's arms, playing with her large necklace as she explained that the two would be staying with her for a while. "I don't want to be a burden to her."

"Nonsense!" Weatherby smiled again. "Patricia, though with child, is doing remarkably well. Besides, I've a slew of servants at my disposal."

"Thank you, Papa." Her voice was choked with emotion that was back. She almost preferred to not have it.

* * *

**Smithy:** I would hate to see the corpse of Will as well. Which is why I haven't given all that much thought to it. I'm glad you decided against pelting me with stones because I'm not really a fan of that. Unless they're fake Styrofoam stones. In which case, I'm all for it. Thank you for the review! I hope you continue to read, as I know not everyone is a fan of what I'm planning on doing...  
**Jib:** You were lucky reviewer #3, which means I get to thank you for prompting me to update. Yay! As a result, you're the lucky winner of a virtual cookie and Jack Sparrow action figure. Hope you enjoy them, as well as this new chapter and subsequent ones. Thanks for the support! 


	3. Chapter Three: The Visitor

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to use these characters because I am not a billionaire. I wish I were. But I'm not. Sadly, I have a penny to my name at the moment.

_Author's Note (10/03/06)_: Ha. I'm really excited about this story. I don't know why, but I am. So, therefore, I'm updating again today. This is where it starts to get interesting, in my opinion. I like reviews. Leave one if you want to. The more reviews I receive, the sooner I'll put up the next chapter (which is already written and just waiting to be read), so please review…

**Chapter Three: The Visitor**

She was alone, scrubbing the tile floors near the hearth. She'd been scrubbing a lot. Everything had to be nice and clean so that she could move on. There were only so many tears she could shed for William Turner. He was dead and gone and had abandoned her to save Kyle, who was dead now anyway. He'd been burned badly on the legs. It got infected. Now he occupied an unmarked grave in Port Royal's cemetery. It was such a waste of a husband. He'd been gone for good for a week, now. A week ago at precisely this time Norrington had knocked on the door to tell Elizabeth her life would never be the same.

Sighing, she put her brush inside the bucket of water and pulled it out again, spilling the dirty liquid all over her dress. She hadn't changed since the funeral and had hardly eaten anything. As a result, she looked a mess. All the mirrors were covered because she didn't want to see herself as a widow. There had to be some sort of change to her appearance to denote her new status in life. She would become the meek widow with two boys that wouldn't be able to sustain them for long on the few mites she could earn doing odd jobs for those more fortunate than she that pitied her state. They would starve to death on the streets. It didn't matter. The glimmer of hope that had been implanted in her was fading, falling like the leaves of the aspen outside her prison.

As she started to scrub the stone again in big sweeping motions, she heard a knock on the front door. It was a most peculiar knock. It seemed quite hesitant and erratic. It stopped for a moment as she stood and then resumed as she walked towards the door, gaining intensity. As she reached for the door handle, it opened.

"'Ello, luv!" a voice said cheerfully, banishing some of the gloom from the main room. A pair of dark kohl-lined eyes stared at Elizabeth intently as Captain Jack Sparrow stepped inside the house without invitation. "You've had a bad week."

Elizabeth blinked a few times, desperately trying to make the illusion before her disappear. What would a man like the infamous pirate be doing in Port Royal, in her home?

As though he could read her thoughts, Jack shut the door and calmly said, "I heard abou' Will. Bad luck, tha'. Figured you could use a visit."

"How…why…Jack?"

He grinned at her, motioning towards the couch. "Take a seat."

"Are you daft?" she questioned as she slowly made her way to the couch and did as he commanded.

"I thought we'd established this already, luv. I'm daft." He calmly sauntered to the couch and sat next to her. "You look terrible."

"Thanks," she muttered sarcastically, glancing down at her filthy hands. "My husband did just die, you know."

"And?"

"I'm disconsolate with grief!"

Jack laughed softly at that, shaking his head. Various bangles of his jingled in merriment. "Don' look tha' way t' me. Look like you could use a good meal an' rest."

Elizabeth stood, pointing towards the door. "I don't need this right now."

Jack remained seated. "Elizabeth, luv, sit back down."

"No." Her finger was still pointed towards the door.

"I ain't leaving until I see you eat an' properly bedded." He smirked suggestively. "Preferably by me."

"You're insufferable." Elizabeth hadn't felt this animated in what felt like years.

"Sticks an' stones, luv." He grinned and relaxed on the chair. "Sure you don' want t' sit?"

"Jack, get out."

He yawned.

"Please, Jack?"

He stared studiously at his fingers, biting at a nail that was a bit too long.

"I'll kill you again, I swear."

He merely smirked slightly and removed the bit of nail before flicking it onto the red rug on the floor.

Grumbling something rather unpleasant under her breath, Elizabeth sat back down next to the pirate. "What do you want from me?" she asked exasperatedly.

He looked directly into her eyes. "I want t' see you smile again." His voice was as serious as it had been before his spat with the Kraken.

Elizabeth plastered one of her now perfected smiles on her face. "Satisfied?"

The pirate frowned. "A real smile, luv."

The familiar feeling of tears burned behind Elizabeth's eyes. "I don't know if I can do that."

"Which is why I'm here," he revealed, sounding somewhat relieved. He put a hand to her lips as she started to protest. "No doubt yer wondering what would prompt such an unselfish act from me. I'd tell ye, bu' I'm afraid mum's the word for now."

"Thank you, Jack." She closed her eyes, desperately trying not to cry in front of the man who'd saved her life on numerous occasions. What would he think of her if she did so? When she opened them again, he was no longer sitting next to him. In fact, he was rummaging around in the kitchen, making a mess of everything. "What are you doing?"

"Ye need t' eat, don' you?"

"Yes…but…do you even know what those ingredients are called?" She slowly stood, wanting to see what it was he was doing. The pirate could move remarkably fast, especially when one noted how clumsy he seemed to always be.

Jack chuckled softly and nodded. "Course I do." He looked towards her and frowned. "Sit down, Elizabeth. Ye need a bi' of a break. As I mentioned before, you look terrible."

Elizabeth scowled slightly, but went back to the couch. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had anything to eat or drink and really didn't have enough energy to protest the incredibly harsh treatment she thought she was receiving. Who was Jack to tell her what to do or how to feel? He'd surely never lost anyone he'd loved as much as she loved Will. She yawned and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, Jack was sitting in the chair across from her. The pirate was merely staring at her, either absorbed in her every movement or off in his own world. She stirred, so he moved as well. "Ah, good. It's still warm."

Her mouth tasted of sleep as she slowly sat up. "What's still warm?"

"Dinner." He grinned and stood, offering her his hand. She accepted it and stood with his help. "I'm not so sure if ye'll like it. I am a pirate, af'er all, an' as such don' often get to cook."

"It doesn't matter. Anything is better than nothing." She inhaled deeply. "It smells delicious, whatever it is."

"One can only hope." Jack helped her sit down at the table and then put a plate of some unidentifiable substance down in front of her. He sat down as well, dishing some out for himself. "I still can't decide if I wan' t' say Grace or not."

"And why is that?"

"Well…" Jack had a faraway look in his eyes. "There's someone up there," he finally decided on saying after quite a pause.

"Then say Grace."

Jack slowly shook his head. "How could I do tha'? I'm a pirate, luv." He sighed softly. "One of the thousand li'le problems I face every day since waking up not-dead anymore."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll say it."

"Don' feel obligated t' do tha' which you don' want t' do," Jack said hastily. "It doesn' matter tha' much."

"Then why did you bring it up?"

"For the sake of conversation."

Elizabeth frowned. "You exasperate me to no end, Jack Sparrow."

"Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow."

She glared at him. "I'm grieving for my dead husband and all you can do is be yourself!"

"Who would you rather I be?" Jack grinned, slowly picking up his fork and knife.

"I don't know."

"Then why does it exasperate you?"

"I want to be alone."

"You can't be alone. Not safe fer ye t'. You might give up on the only thing you'll ever have."

"And that would be?"

"Life." Jack set the utensils down. "Elizabeth, luv, all of this grievin' isn't helping anyone."

"Sure it is. Makes me feel normal."

"No, it isn'. It's only making you feel bitter an' tired. You're starving yourself because he's dead. Denying yerself basic comforts because he no longer experiences them. In effect, you're trying t' match wha' he's now. None of this is going t' bring him back. He's gone. _Nothing_ you can do will change that."

Elizabeth glanced down, something catching in her chest. "You came back."

"I know."

Tears filled her eyes. "Why can't he?"

Jack sighed softly, putting his hand on the table and taking hers. "You really would wish tha' much pain on him?"

Her head came up sharply. "Pain?"

"He's in a better place, luv. I know you've 'eard that before, but I _know_. If you bring him back…" He sighed softly. "How did he die, Elizabeth?"

Pain filled her eyes as she whispered, "An explosion."

"Was his body scarred beyond recognition?"

"So they told me."

"He'd come back in a lo' of pain, then." Jack grimaced at the memory of his own return to life. "Not only would 'e be leaving a place where he's perfectly happy an' pain free, bu' he'd be stuck in the same old body he had before. His desecrated corpse would be an eyesore an' he'd probably smell badly." He smiled very slightly, gently rubbing his finger along her hand. "Besides, my death was in a different circumstance. Mythological creatures bein' involved an' all."

Elizabeth looked down at her hand, halfway tempted to draw it away from his. At the same time, she was starved for human interaction. "It isn't fair."

"No one e'er said it would be." Jack gently caressed her hand for a few moments more before letting go. "Now, then, you goin' t' eat or not? I've a sneaking suspicion that the colder it gets, the harder it'll be t' eat."

Elizabeth stared at her plate numbly for a moment as he grabbed his utensils and took the first bite. It certainly smelled like something worth eating, but she had the sneaking suspicion it would turn to ash in her mouth. She didn't deserve to eat, not with Will in the ground unable to do anything but decompose.

"That isn' eating," Jack remarked as he swallowed a chunk of his creation. "Tha's just sitting. And looking terribly melancholy. Bad combination, really." He sighed and shifted slightly in his chair. "Don' tell me I've got t' feed you like a child."

Elizabeth looked up and glared at him. "I haven't been a child for some time. I can feed myself."

"Jus' because you've had knits yourself don' mean that you're not still childlike."

"You have _such_ a way with words, Jack Sparrow." Elizabeth's voice was dark. "I'm not hungry."

"There you go again." Jack frowned. "Eat."

"No."

The pirate sighed softly. There was a look in his dark eyes that Elizabeth didn't expect and could scarcely identify. He seemed to understand far more than she thought possible. "I thought we'd already established that there's nothing you can do t' bring Will back. Starving yourself is only detrimental to your health an' the wellbeing of the little bundles of joy tha' seem to be quite _conveniently_ gone."

"They're with my father." Elizabeth didn't know why she was providing him with that bit of information.

"Good." Jack smiled slightly, clearly pleased with the tidbit. "Very good." He motioned towards her plate. "Eat. It ain't as bad as one would assume. An' I haven't keeled over eating it, so tha' means it must not be poisonous."

Elizabeth sighed and slowly picked up a fork. She suddenly felt too tired to argue. All she wanted to do was to get this relative stranger out of her house and it seemed the only way to do so was to do as he asked. It really was a pity she had no other friends like Jack Sparrow. She cut a piece off and then slowly started to chew, rather surprised to note how good it tasted. Perhaps the pirate knew something about cooking after all.


	4. Chapter Four: The Embrace

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to use these characters.

_Author's Note (10/04/06)_: My magic random number of reviews has been reached again, hence me updating. I have the feeling that this entire story will be up before I feel up to finishing my next chapter for 'Ello Beastie. They're very draining. Which is probably why they're less experimental than this… Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and leave a review, even if it's a word or two. Yet again, I've already got the next chapter finished and just need enough words of praise to put it up.

**Chapter Four: The Embrace**

"Why are you still here?"

"Ought not t' sound so happy to see me, dearie, the neighbors won' know jus' _what_ to think." Jack glanced up. He was in the process of making breakfast.

"The Admiral is coming to visit today. You'll be arrested."

"Darling, you're a terrible liar." Jack grinned at her and then looked down at the eggs in the bowl in his hand. "You're not expecting anyone, leas' of all that good-for-nothin' admiral."

Elizabeth sighed slightly, stepping down the last stair. After dinner last night, everything had become blurry. She was certain she'd fallen asleep at the table, but had woken up in her bed. Elizabeth doubted that Jack would go so far as to tuck her in. "How can I convince you to leave?"

"I tole you already." Jack sounded exasperated as he poured the eggs into an already warm pan. "I jus' need to see you smile."

"I want to be alone."

He looked at her again with an intensity that made her feel as though her soul were visible. "Tha's why I'm here."

"What part of _alone_ don't you understand?"

"Apparently all of it." He smirked slightly. "You look a lot better t'day. Smell something horrible, though."

"As if you have room to speak." The pirate captain wasn't known for his hygiene. In fact, he could practically make a man pass out by just opening his slippery mouth.

"Makes it tha' much more of an insult, don'it?" Jack grinned again before flipping half of the egg concoction over some cheese. "Personally, I think ye need t' bathe. Maybe even change your clothes."

"And that will make me magically stop crying, is that it?" Elizabeth let out a breath of frustration.

"No." Jack looked up at her again. "There is no magic way t' stop emotions. They jus' come."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment. She brushed her ratty hair back behind her ear, wondering what she must look like to the captain. He'd seen her filthy, before, but she'd never felt so dirty inside and out as she did at this moment. She slowly took a seat at the table. There was nothing she could do to help Jack; he seemed to be dispensing aid left and right in a wholly uncharacteristic way. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been a slimy, shaking mess barely able to string two words together. Obviously he'd changed in the past few years, coming to grips with whatever it was he'd experienced while dead. She almost missed the Jack Sparrow that had saved her from a watery grave. Life had been so much less complicated then.

"Do you wan' anything special on top of your omelet? Now is the time t' speak." His voice seemed very near to her, though he was several feet away.

"Where did you get the eggs?"

"I scared your neighbor's chickens. They couldn' help but hand over the eggs."

"And the cheese?"

The pirate captain grinned. "Now tha's a mystery, isn' it?"

"Did you steal that too?"

A small gesture of his hand was enough of an answer. Jack flipped the omelet over. It looked a little runny on the inside. He'd never been a fan of goopy eggs.

"Have you ever cried, Jack?" Elizabeth put her hand to her forehead, leaning against the table.

There was a pause in his answer. "Yes."

"When?"

Sighing softly as he remembered a few rather painful moments, Jack plated the omelet and placed it near Elizabeth on the table. "Well…other than when I was a child an' had no other way t' communicate…" He sat down across from her and started drumming the table in an unusual pattern with his fingers. "I cried when my ship sank."

Elizabeth looked at him and tilted her head. "When did that happen?"

"When I made the deal with Jones." Jack shuddered as he thought of the cephalopod-crab man that had made his life wretched.

"Is that the only time?" Elizabeth was desperate to hear that someone else had experienced what she was going through.

"Of course it isn'." Jack smiled very slightly. "I cried when my sister died. I cried when I los' a woman I loved. I cried when me dog got run over by a carriage. I even cried a bi' when I heard Will's unexpected demise."

"You did?"

"Aye."

"You don't seem to be the type to cry over a man you hardly counted as your friend." Elizabeth's voice strained in the middle of the sentence, nearly breaking off.

"He was a friend," Jack attested.

"You hardly seem the sort of man to even cry." She sniffed loudly, brushing her hand across her waterlogged eyes. "Men don't cry."

"Sure they do. It's a misconception tha' they don'. E'en the most hardened man, at one time or another, has cried." Jack inhaled, signifying that he was about to monologue. "Men jus' generally divert the energy an' pain what drives crying into something else, luv. Tha's why we're so much more wretched than women. Half the time the cruel things we do t' one another are jus' feeble attempts for us to keep ourselves from gettin' hurt again. A man can cry in more ways than jus' shedding tears. Often, it's by actions. Jus' another way t' express pain. Not as good as cryin', though. When actually shedding tears, all one does is help themselves rather than potentially hurt others."

"Crying gives you headaches." Elizabeth brushed away a few more tears, embarrassed. She slowly assimilated what he'd just said, jumping to the possibly correct conclusion that he hadn't answered her truthfully before. "Have you ever shed tears, then?"

"Yes." He smiled very slightly. "Not often, mind you, because it makes me kohl run, but I have actually shed tears."

"Oh." He pushed the plate in front of her. "Thank you," she said meekly.

He nodded. "You going to bathe after breakfast, then?" She mutely started cutting the eggs with her fork. "I can help you wiv the undressing part, if ye'd like."

She rolled her eyes and looked up at him. "I have no clean clothes," she admitted.

"Oh! So _tha's_ the problem." Jack smiled warmly and slowly stood. "I can take care o' that."

"You mean to tell me that the _infamous_ Captain Jack Sparrow is going to do laundry?"

Jack laughed and shook his head. "Hardly. The infamous Captain Jack Sparrow is goin' t' get you something new to wear."

Elizabeth laughed weakly at the idea of a pirate walking into a dress shop. The incongruity of the situation just seemed to scream ridiculous. "I find that hard to believe."

Jack looked excited to hear her laugh. The shine in his dark eyes seemed brighter for an instant, though he treated the situation with a fairly nonchalant attitude. "I do too. Bu' they say I 'ave an eye for fashion an' you need something clean t' wear."

"They'll catch you in the tailor's shop. Besides, you don't know my proportions."

"I could guess." He looked at her appraisingly. More than likely, he would be able to estimate well. He knew a lot of women intimately. "To be on the safe side, you could show me."

"You turn everything vulgar," she snapped, standing up. "I have a few things that aren't too terribly…well, no, I don't. John threw up all over that dress."

"I can get you something new."

"No, Jack, you can't. Don't you realize what will happen if Admiral Norrington hears you're in town? Death. He hates you." She brushed angrily at her filthy apron.

"And that bothers you, does it? I thought ye wan'ed to kill me again."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as she looked into his. "I don't want to deal with more death, Jack. I don't want to lose you, too."

He grinned very slightly before embracing her tightly, sensing she needed more than words at this particular moment. "You won' lose me," he promised.

Tears flooded from Elizabeth's eyes again. "Do you know the last thing I said to him?" she choked, forgetting about the dirty dishes on the table and the fact that she felt as though she were carrying valises with her eyelids. All that mattered right now was that she was in the arms of a friend. He seemed to be safety, an anchor to the real world that she'd been drifting away from for the past week.

"What?"

"Don't forget to shoe the O'Leary's horse." She put her arms around him, holding him like John liked to hold his favorite blanket.

"You din' know anything would happen," Jack said comfortingly. "An' neither did he. Isn' it better to go out as normally as possible?"

Elizabeth merely sobbed harder. "The last time… I told him… I loved him…" She gasped for air, unable to breathe with the burning in her chest. "Well before John was born."

"I'm sure he knew."

"How?" She sounded so lost, so alone.

"How could 'e not, luv? You gave up every comfort to have him. An' you stayed by his side. You stuck wiv the whelp even when better offers were available."

She buried her head into his strong shoulder, unable to notice any of the smells clinging to him. "Worst of all, I hate him."

"You 'ave every reason to, luv," Jack said frankly, not the least bit surprised. "He left you wiv nothin'. Hating him is natural."

"What kind of person hates a hero?"

"Every kind." He gently kissed the top of her forehead. "The definition of a hero is someone who does somethin' stupid an' hurts other people."

"He didn't even save the boy." Her voice caught. "It was a wasted effort."

"It was somethin' he felt he needed to do. I'm sure 'e din' think of the pain it would cause those he loved."

"I hate him so much." She sighed, tensing as another wave of tears pricked her eyes. "And yet I love him so much. Why is he gone?"

"Elizabeth, luv, this is one of those situations when words fail humans." Jack carefully put his hand underneath her chin and tilted her head so that she would look up at him. "I don' know why he's gone. He is. You're not. You need t' square wiv that. I want to help you, bu' there's only so much _I _can do. I can't make the pain vanish. I can't e'en make it diminish." He tentatively kissed her cheek. "_You_ need t' do it."

"I'm not strong enough," she murmured as scenes of what led to her chaining him to the mast flashed through her mind.

"If you weren' strong enough, I wouldn' be here," Jack said tenderly as he lightly stroked her cheek. "Now, then, are ye ready t' wash up? As I mentioned before, you smell funny."

"I suppose," she acquiesced, stepping back. Once she was out of his arms, the world hit her with such a velocity as to make her physically nauseous.

"I've already drawn a bath for ye, luv," Jack announced proudly. "Now, then, go an' wash up an' I promise I'll have something clean fer ye t' wear before you have to come back down, e'en if I'd be fine wiv you not wearing anything…"

She glared at him and he laughed. "You'd better not try to watch."

"Wouldn' dream of it, luv. You don' have anything I've no' seen before."

* * *

Daisy: Someone _finally _caught it! You've hit the nail on the head, figuratively. I've been waiting for someone to notice for quite some time. Yes, I've read _Gone With the Wind_. I've read it numerous times. It's one of my favorite romance novels because Scarlett is such a flawed character. Honestly, why would you be hung up on Ashley with someone like Rhett interested in you? Plus she enjoys complaining about the trivial. At the same time, she's capable of murdering a man to protect her home and family and...er...yeah. You don't need a run down of said book, as you've read it. Yes, Jack is acting in a Rhett-esque fashion. And, in 'Ello Beastie, Rosalyn is pretty much just a young Scarlett and Richard is Rhett... Random tidbit for you, but I love that book so very much I can't not allude to it. Thank you for catching that! 


	5. Chapter Five: The Hair

Disclaimer: I still don't have permission to be doing this, mate.

_Author's Note (10/05/06)_: By popular demand, here's the next chapter. Please, please, please anyone who is a Will fan and is still reading this, don't stone me. Or crucify me. The tension I mention is just there to add contrast. That's it. I don't really think Will and Elizabeth would end up in a relationship like the one I portray in here. Honest. Once again, reviews are loved. They spur me into updating, as I've got several more chapters ready to go…

**Chapter Five: The Hair**

When Elizabeth returned clean with wet hair down in the main room, Jack sniffed the air and smiled. "Much more better, luv."

"I'm glad I'm no longer offending your _delicate_ olfactory sense," Elizabeth remarked dryly, surprised to note that Jack had cleaned all the dishes.

"Well, don't you feel better?"

"A bit," Elizabeth admitted. She played with the brush in her hand, running her finger over the teeth. Her hair was no longer oily, which was quite the improvement to what it had been, but it was still a mess. "Did you peek when you put my dress inside the door?"

"Only a little." Jack smirked and motioned towards the chair. "I'll have you know, luv, I risked life an' limb t' get that particular dress of yers clean, since you so kindly refused a new one."

"I probably don't want to know, but what did you do?" she asked as she started to comb through the tangles, wincing as she pulled hair from her scalp.

The smirk broadened as he sat down on the couch. "I paid a visit to a Nancy Shelby. She was more'n happy to wash the dress for you once I convinced her my intentions were purely friendly. Screamed when she firs' saw me an' nearly sliced me up wiv her carving knife."

"I'm sure it was really a disappointment to her. No real story worth mentioning because she wasn't ravished by an infamous pirate." Elizabeth's lips turned up in a shadow of a smile. "She always has been one to emphasize the extraordinarily mundane events she witnesses. I've heard how she was actually _there_ at your near-hanging more times than I'd care to admit."

"A fan o' mine, eh?" Jack chuckled. "Well, no wonder it took hardly any convincing of her t' get her to wash your dress."

"Don't let your head swell _too_ much." Elizabeth felt a strange twinge of something other than grief dancing inside. She couldn't identify it.

"Oh, I won'," Jack promised, raising his right hand to a square. "One fan I've never seen before and will ne'er meet again is o' little consequence to me." He looked towards the armchair and then at Elizabeth.

Instead of sitting where he was suggesting, Elizabeth sat next to him on the couch. "Can you help me brush my hair?"

"Can't ye do it yerself?" Jack asked, clearly taken aback.

"Well, yes, but it is difficult and my arms are sore from all the cleaning I've been doing lately. I don't think I can hold it up for long."

Jack slowly nodded. She handed him the brush and scooted next to him. "I'll try not t' hurt you," he promised as he took a lock of her damp hair. He held it close to her scalp and started to methodically work through the tangles. Elizabeth's curly tresses had a habit of tying themselves in knots.

Once he'd finished with one section of hair, he moved on to another. Elizabeth was staring out the front window, watching leaves fall like snow from the aspen. It was sunny and warm outside and she could imagine the sunlight dancing on her face. It would feel nice. Almost as nice as standing on the deck of a gently moving ship would feel. Though she'd never expressed it to Will, she'd missed the sea very much after their marriage. Will couldn't afford to travel anywhere once they got back from the whole fiasco involving Davy Jones. He was too busy trying to regain his respectability to notice the listlessness that started developing in his wife. Elizabeth had pushed aside her dreams, especially when their first son came along, and was starting to remember them with Jack back.

"What have you been doing for the past five years, Jack?" She had long wondered this while changing dirty nappies or scrubbing pots and pans since her marriage.

"Ah, _now_ tha' question comes." Jack sighed almost imperceptibly as he worked through a particularly nasty tangle. "I've been doing what I've always done."

"And that is?"

"I've been me." He cursed softly as he nearly broke the brush trying to get a tangle out. "Pillaging and plundering me weasly black guts out, of course."

"Can't you be more specific than that?"

"Why do ye want t' know?" He took another strand of hair and started laboriously brushing through it.

"I'm curious."

"Curious, eh?" Jack had a serious look on his face as he tried not to rip a chunk of Elizabeth's hair out. "Well…I found Blackbeard's treasure in the Colonies. Tha's somethin'."

"I suppose." She was silent for a moment. "I doubt it took five years to complete. What else did you do?"

"No, it din' take five years." The pirate sighed. "I got older."

"Everyone does that."

"Why the sudden curiosity in me? I thought ye were disconsolate wiv grief."

"I need something else to think about, Jack. These walls are starting to drive me insane. I've been stuck in them for the last five years. The world is a mystery to me again because I've been so busy being with child, cleaning, and tending to Will's sons."

"Well, I suppose its good t' know he's not a eunuch af'er all." Jack smiled slightly, setting another strand of combed hair down before reaching for the last bit that was still tangled. "Surely ye did more than have babies an' clean. You only have two sons an' dear William, I assume, kept t' his habit o' spending more time in the blacksmith shop than wiv his beautiful wife at home."

"That's all I did." Elizabeth sighed softly. "It was heaven, at first. He treated me so well, like a princess. And then I had William and Will expected me to know how to do everything perfectly. There had to be a warm meal prepared when he came home…which became later and later, mind you, because he couldn't concentrate very well at home. He was a good father. Lousy husband." She laughed bitterly. "I thought it would be some sort of fairy tale. But he would come home and eat and I would put the children to bed and he would work out his frustrations on me."

"Did 'e hurt you?" Jack sounded upset at the notion as he clenched the brush tight enough his knuckles started to turn white.

"No, no," Elizabeth said softly. "He didn't hurt me. He just…well, we stopped talking. After William was asleep, Will would bed me without a word and would fall asleep. I had no one adult to talk to and I was constantly with child. After the first miscarriage, he was a bit more understanding and tried to listen to me…but with each subsequent one it was as though…" She sighed. "He became as rough and calloused as his hands. There was a time he thought my opinions mattered more than any other opinions and then he started listening to people. He decided he needed a large family and, me, being the wife…I was required to give it to him. Everything became so trivial."

Her voice suddenly caught in her throat. "Everything, and I mean everything, was just a ritual he went through. It was as though I no longer existed. I was just a thing." She sighed softly, not even sure where all this was coming from. She'd long been aware she was suffering from some sort of malaise, but had never tried to identify it. "He would come home and would play with his sons, watching me do the cooking and cleaning like I used to watch the maids in my father's house. I never got any attention." She started to cry. "Even my own children…they don't see me. The only time they would laugh and play without being cranky or rude was when Papa was home. I don't matter."

Finished brushing Elizabeth's hair, Jack set the brush down. "You do matter," he affirmed. "I wouldn' take the time t' visit if you din' matter."

She turned around to look at him. "I used to have opinions and a voice and…where did I go, Jack?"

"You din' go anywhere. You're still right there." He gently touched her cheek, wiping at a few tears.

"I must sound terrible," she sniffled. "Saying that Will was a horrid husband." Fresh tears washed her face. "I'm not supposed to speak ill of the dead."

Jack smiled and wiped a few more tears off her face. "Well, from the sounds o' it, he was. I don' see why we have this habit of makin' the dead some sort of saint. Will treated ye like he would've treated any other woman." His eyes darkened somewhat. "I've always been under the impression tha' marriage is jus' a race to see who falls out of love first."

"I still love him, Jack, I do." Elizabeth was far more fervent in that statement than Jack expected her to be. "It…no one ever told me it was so hard to be a wife."

"Well, no one ever tole him to treat you better, I'm sure. Disgustin' how mos' men objectify women."

"And you mean to tell me that you don't?" she scoffed slightly, desperately trying to stop crying.

"I did." He sighed. "Don' anymore."

"I find _that_ hard to believe."

He smiled enigmatically. "So…after I found Blackbeard's treasure, I wen' back to India."

"You afraid to retort to that?" Elizabeth queried, arching one of her eyebrows.

"In India, I ran in'o an old friend of mine. Told me tales of a stone that could grant a man's every desire. Naturally, I convinced me crew to go after it. Long expedition, really, wiv no results. Almost like tryin' t' find that elusive Holy Grail. Anyway, we got t' the town where it was supposed to be an' I was nearly sacrificed to Kali. I've quite the nice scar from the blade they tried t' chop me in half wiv. The only reason I survived was tha' the neighboring village decided to attack at that very moment. I almost died of an infection in the jungles of India, bu' obviously didn't.

"We came back t' the Caribbean in the middle o' tha' nasty hurricane that hit the Florida Keys. I nearly los' the _Pearl_ again, but through my expert navigation, we came out fine. Visited Tia Dalma to pay my respects an' give her payment for saving my life. She tole me something enigmatic, as is her way, tha' I've been trying to figure out up un'il a few days ago, when I heard that Will was dead."

"What did she say?" Elizabeth forgot that he'd completely avoided her previous biting statement. Jack had a way with words and could almost cast a spell on the listener.

"Said tha' before I could do anythin' else worthwhile, I'd have to do something for someone close to me or perish." He smiled slightly. "Or somethin' along those lines. I figured she was talkin' about herself, as she din' seem exactly thrilled wiv my payment. After all, it was jus' some relic I found in India." He sighed and shrugged. "Nothing much else happened. Takes a while t' travel all over the world."

"So is what Tia Dalma said the only reason you decided to come?"

Jack shook his head. "Hardly. I figured you'd need someone to keep from jumping on the _sati_."

"The what?"

"_Sati_. Funeral pyre of all good and faithful widows. In India, when a man dies, his widow is expected to jump onto his pyre because life isn' worth living anymore or some similar rot. While tha' isn't something we practice here, the way widows shut themselves up to the world is pretty much death. Society expects you t' be grim for the rest of your natural life, which'd be a great travesty, luv."

"So you came here to save me?" she asked, leaning towards him.

"In so many words, yes." Jack looked at her intently for a moment. "Why? Would ye rather toss your life to the yawning nothingness what seems to surround you right now?"

"No." Elizabeth looked down at her hands, unable to bear his gaze any longer.

"Good." He took her hand and gently kissed it. "You look tired. You ought to get some sleep."

Vaguely disappointed, Elizabeth slowly stood. "Good night Jack."

"G'night, luv."

* * *

_howlongmustiwait_: I like your name. It actually prompted me to put this up right this very moment. I'm glad you enjoy it so much. If you want more Jack goodness, there's always my other stories... 'Ello Beastie is fairly good, in my opinion. Lot more dense read, but it focuses solely on Jack. Thank you!  
_Daisy_: Aye, the ending is terribly disappointing. Frankly, I don't know how Rhett put up with it all for so long from Scarlett. I'm halfway tempted to read the sequel written by someone else, but am afraid they'll get it all wrong. I'm not a big fan of the movie...though, I do like Clark Gable. He's pretty awesome.  
I never liked Will much either. It's all his fault that Jack ends up dead at the end of the movie. If he hadn't been so caught up in the idea of freeing his father, Jack could've negotiated to get the Kraken off his tail, get his soul back, and maybe even save Bootstrap. But noooo! I saw _Dead Man's Chest _again last night and really wanted to smack him... And, of course Jack'll be back! Just like Han Solo comes back from being frozen forever in carbonite. I can't wait to see exactly how it is he gets back... Only 232 days. Seems like forever, but I started counting down for the second one at about that many days to go... Anyway, thanks for the review! 


	6. Chapter Six: The Kiss

Disclaimer: I still don't have permission to be writing this.

_Author's Note (10/07/06)_: I have this terrible habit of forgetting what I was going to put in these as I check the date on my watch… Ummm…. Well, I guess the only thing worth noting is that I fully intend to update 'Ello Beastie later today. So, if I don't, you can throw wet noodles at me. Reviews are lovely. So are cookies. Maybe I should make some…hmmm…

**Chapter Six: The Kiss**

"There's the Lizzy I remember!" Jack said brightly as Elizabeth stepped down the last stair the next morning. She'd fallen asleep with barely any effort at all on her part. As a result of Jack's carefully directed prompting, she looked quite a bit healthier and a lot less like a scullery maid.

"Don't call me that," she said sternly. "The girls at finishing school in London used to call me "Leggy Lizzy" and I've hated the nickname ever since."

"It's not a bad thing t' have nice legs like yours," Jack mused. "However, I will honor your request. I swear, on pain of death, to no longer call you Lizzy. Maybe Leggy Liz, though…"

She glared at him and lightly punched him on the arm. "You'd best not, pirate," she grumbled. "You don't even know what my legs are like."

"I can imagine, can't I?" He closed his eyes though he still gave the appearance of appraising her. "Yep. Very nice." He tilted his head upward slightly and she punched his arm again.

"Don't you dare," she warned. "Open your eyes at once and stop picturing me in the nude."

Chuckling, he did as she requested. "You're no fun, Beth."

"Don't call me that, either." She raised her finger warningly at the pirate, as though she were scolding her four year old son. "My name is Elizabeth. Not Eliza, not Beth, not Liz, not Lizzy, just Elizabeth." She frowned. "How would you like me to call you Ack, Ja, or just Ck?"

"I wouldn't mind, actually. You can call me whatever you want." His voice was low and his tone suggestive.

She impulsively backed a few inches away. "Cabin boy Sparrow?"

"On second thought, you can't call me whatever you want. It's either Captain Sparrow or Jack."

"Which is why it's either Elizabeth or _Missus_ Turner for me."

"As I said, no fun." He shook his head.

Elizabeth smiled and then glanced towards the kitchen, tilting her head as she realized there was no comfortable aroma of food headed her way. "So you've decided to stop cooking for me?" She tried and failed to mask her disappointment.

"Hardly." Jack smiled. "You jus' so happen to be out of mostly everythin', Missus Turner."

"Oh." That posed a bit of a problem, really. Elizabeth couldn't remember where Will had a habit of stashing their meager cash supply. He just gave it to her weekly for the expenses. "Can't you steal some more eggs or a chicken?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I already tried the chicken coop. No new eggs. I mus've frightened the chickens more than I thought."

"What about taking a chicken?"

Jack pulled a face, sticking his tongue out. "No thank you. Then I'd have t' kill it an' pluck the feathers an'…" He shook his head quickly.

"You're squeamish," she announced triumphantly. "The _infamous_ Captain Jack Sparrow is afraid of killing a bird."

Jack frowned and sighed. "Perhaps, a bi'. I dunno…it jus' reminds me of being stuck on an island where I was mistaken for a god." He shuddered. "Long pork."

"Chicken reminds you of pork?"

"Aye, ye could say that."

"Well, then, I guess that's that."

"Hardly." With an amused glint to his eye, Jack pulled out a small bag and tossed it to Elizabeth. "I figure tha's your pay for the work ye did aboard me ship five years ago, plus interest."

"I'm getting paid for killing you?" There was another shadow of a smile on her face as she slowly opened the bag and Jack laughed. She let the contents spill onto her hand and frowned. "Jack, this is far more than I deserve."

"Well, I figure it's what you earned." He smirked suggestively. "I like t' think back to that kiss fondly. Consider it a shilling for every time me mind went back to that."

She quickly totaled the money in her hand. "You must have thought of it quite often." Her heart seemed to jump at the thought of him thinking of her for all these years.

"It was a terribly nice kiss." He looked tempted to try and relive the kiss, but stayed where he stood.

Elizabeth blushed, suddenly feeling terribly uncomfortable and anxious all at the same time. "Er…yes, well, I figured I needed to do something to distract you before chaining you to that mast." A nearly palpable tension appeared as they stared at each other.

"Obviously it worked."

"Obviously." She looked down at her feet, her cheeks pink.

"You'll 'ave t' head to the store by your onesies," Jack said a few moments later, covering the awkwardness with his reassuring voice. "I'm not exactly welcome in the heart of Port Royal."

She frowned, glancing towards the door. "I don't want to go."

"I thought you thought tha' these walls were a prison, luv."

"They are."

"Then why don' you want t' leave?"

"I don't want to face _them_ again." She sighed and walked to the armchair, sinking into it like a woman twenty years her senior. "They have no idea what it's like."

"Tha' makes you sound a bit cowardly. What happened to the Elizabeth I knew what could stand up to Hector Barbossa an' the devil hisself?"

"As I told you yesterday, I don't know."

Jack frowned and was silent for a moment as he considered his options. "We'll end up starvin' if ye don' go out and get something."

"You could always borrow flour from one of your fans rather than stealing it."

"Aye, but what would be the fun in that?"

Elizabeth turned her face away from him, folding her arms. "I just won't eat."

"I'm not goin' t' go to see Nancy again. I've got this terrible feeling she'll accost me the momen' I enter her door so tha' I can properly "rape" her. Not in the mood t' see her flab."

Elizabeth's face didn't move. There wasn't the slightest twitch of an eyebrow or the smallest hint of a sparkle in her eyes. She seemed despondent again and it terrified Jack. Maybe all this effort had gone to waste. Words weren't working.

Drastic measures needed to be taken. He boldly sauntered to where she sat, taking her hand and lifting her up. She barely had time to process what he'd done before his lips were pressed against hers. Her eyes widened in shock. After what felt like an eternity, but was really a moment, he stepped back; daring her to slap him for what he'd done.

She stared at him, her mouth gaping open like a dead fish.

"I'm not sorry," he remarked after a moment of pregnant silence.

She still stared.

"I…you needed it."

She didn't even blink.

"Say _some_thing," he pleaded.

She slowly lifted her palm up, apparently intending to slap him. Instead, she put her hand on his cheek and pulled him to her, kissing him back with a passion born of grief, pain, guilt, and desire.

When she pulled away, he blinked a few times. "Oh."

"Help me forget, Jack." She put her hand on his shoulder as the other started to tug at his shirt. There was a fire in her eyes.

"No." Jack surprised both himself and Elizabeth as he took her hands off his chest and gently kissed them before putting them at her side.

Elizabeth's eyes looked ready to overflow again. "What?"

"No." He smiled slightly, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He almost seemed torn as to what to do in this situation. "You still need t' visit the store."

Inflamed, she stepped backwards and nearly toppled over the chair. "Am I not attractive enough for you?"

"That isn't it at _all_," Jack grunted, catching her before she did fall. "Not yet, Elizabeth."

"Why not?"

"Well, first of all, you still need nourishment, especially if yer interested in spending so much energy wiv me. Secondly…you need t' face them. Thirdly, I'm hungry. Fourthly, I'm not a stand in for Will."

"I never thought you were."

"Good we cleared that up." He grinned and tenderly kissed her hand again. "Go to the store, make some purchases, I'll fix you a meal, an' then _most likely_ we can do wha' you've got in that pretty head of yours."

She sighed softly, closing her fist over the small bag of money. "Fine," she relented. "I'll go out. First I have to wash my mourning dress. If I were to go out in any color other than black, I'd be ostracized."

"An' that matters why?"

"I have two small children, Jack. I can't just think about myself." She looked tired again. "I suppose you could always preoccupy yourself with my gardening while you wait."

Jack laughed at the thought. "Luv, I spend my time at sea where the only green a man sees is tha' which his crew's wearing more often than not."

"What about islands?"

"Mere scabs of the sea, dearie. I generally choose t' ignore them." He smiled at her, motioning towards the door. "I'm not generally a patient man, luv, so I'd appreciate it greatly if ye'd hurry."

* * *

_Alexa_: I couldn't agree more. It's a wonderful book that I enjoy reading again an' again. Thank you for leaving a review!  
_HowlongmustIwait_: I like this side of Jack too. Of course...I'm not entirely sure we'll ever get to see this side on screen...not that it's necessarily a bad thing, mind you, because I really like action. It's my friend, mostly because I grew up watching movies with explosions and car chases rather than "Chick Flicks." I hope you enjoyed this new chapter an' hope to hear from you again.  
_Daisy_: And there we have an example of how this story is greatly influenced by _Gone With the Wind_. I changed the spelling to match how it is on Wikipedia, though, as I had to do research on the sati for 'Ello Beastie. Another book is an influence on this one, I must admit, though it isn't as large an influence on The Token as it is on 'Ello Beastie. If you ever have time, you might want to read _The India Fan_ by Victoria Holt. Or anything by her, really. She does a lot of research for her romances and they're of a higher caliber than most people think they are. I wish I could give you some spare time to do so, really... Anyway, thank you for the review. 


	7. Chapter Seven: The Bakery

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be using these characters.

_Author's Note (10/08/06)_: And now we get to the chapters that I didn't write that first day I had the idea. They might not flow. I'm sorry if they don't. I'm busy trying to decide where to go next. Updates will likely not be as fast because I resolved something that was giving me most of the energy to write this. But there will still be updates. As these are smaller chapters than 'Ello Beastie, they'll come quicker. I can't think of anything major I need to do school-wise this week. Random information. Anyway, I'd love it if you left me reviews. I like reviews. They spur me on. The next chapter is interesting, so if you want to read it, leave a review.

**Chapter Seven: The Bakery**

Whispers followed her in Port Royal. It was amazing how people thought that just because their tone was hushed they couldn't be heard. It was similar to those who stared at others with the notion that they couldn't be seen staring. She didn't like the stares and whispers. They were an annoying insect circling around her head, never landing, always flying. It made her skin crawl.

She looked down whenever they were bold enough to look her in the eye. The intense emptiness from before seemed to be gone and she was afraid they would look into her soul and see hope. Widows were never supposed to hope or laugh or smile or sing…not a week and a half after their husband's passing, not a month after, not even a year after. Widows had to have a grim smile for the rest of their lives. Perhaps Jack had been right. Perhaps society did bury the widow along with her husband.

She heard her name spoken with a hushed reverence as they wondered aloud how she was holding up without Him. That was another thing that bothered her. He wasn't worthy of near-deification. Yet, they spoke of him as though he belonged in the scriptures. They forgot that he was just a blacksmith who had the opportunity to become something and someone great and turned it down so he could marry and live respectably. They forgot he was the man that helped strangle Lord Beckett's hold on the bustling port. They forgot that he was a man. He became an abstract idea. Then again, such was the fate of all who passed on during the prime of their life before people forgot them. Couldn't speak ill of those who had the power to speak ill in the afterlife of you.

She reached the bakery and stepped inside, anxious to escape this situation and return to the arms of a man who, by all accounts, seemed to understand what she felt. She wanted to lose herself in him. But she was here wondering if he'd rather eat a baguette or something softer. Elizabeth never made her own bread. After experimenting for a few months after first getting married, she got tired of eating burned and unleavened bread because of her own forgetfulness. Something about the process seemed impossible to remember. As a result, she used the very small allotment Will had given her for herself to purchase bread. He never knew the difference.

The baker, a relative friend of Elizabeth, visibly paled after walking out to see who had entered her shop. Elizabeth empathized. She'd been around a neighbor who had lost a child and never knew what to do or say in her presence. The social ramifications of such a situation were staggering. It was never discussed how one should treat another who'd lost someone important to them and, thusly, the baker seemed quite at a loss and tempted to disappear into the back of the store again.

Elizabeth smiled slightly at the woman, amazed to discover that it didn't hurt as much to turn the corners of her mouth up as she thought it would be. Perhaps Jack really was a salve for her soul. "Hello."

"G'day, Missus Turner." The baker paled again, wondering if she'd done something wrong by bringing up the woman's last name.

Elizabeth looked down for a moment, trying to picture Will as she closed her eyes. Curiously, all she could see were Jack's kohl-lined ones staring at her. This was not normal, was it? Why _had_ he sent her to the store? It seemed blatantly uncharacteristic of a womanizer.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ma'am," the baker said quickly after a three second pause. "I din' mean t'-"

"Don't worry." Elizabeth looked back up, hoping that her sudden desire to be in Jack's arms would fade. She hadn't experienced lust in quite a while and was having a difficult time pinpointing what it was, precisely, making her feel so odd. "Do you happen to have any of those rolls?"

"Which rolls?"

"The ones that-" Elizabeth's voice caught and genuine tears glistened in her eyes.

"Oh…the ones tha' you generally got for…Him." The baker slowly nodded. "I was plannin' t' bring you some, actually, along with a few other baked goods. Free of charge, of course." She smiled slightly, more grateful to have a chance to leave Elizabeth to go into the kitchens than to be so generous.

Elizabeth watched the baker disappear through a door off limit to the public, angrily wiping at her eyes. It wasn't fair. How could she feel this way with Will just barely in the grave? Did she truly want Jack? Or was she just terribly lonely? After spending five years with Will, she missed his quiet company. She missed the way his brow would furrow every so often when a rare or profound thought crossed his mind. She missed the way he would hold her at night. She missed him. Maybe she really did just want to replace Will with Jack.

A few salty tears fell to the floor as the baker returned. She held a large bag full of all sorts of bread, wordlessly passing it to Elizabeth. She smiled weakly, looking half tempted to gently touch the widow's shoulder or something. However, while Elizabeth had taken a fall in society's eyes, she was still the governor's daughter and carried herself about aristocratically. As a result, the baker was afraid to touch her. It might diminish her grace or beauty.

"Thank you." Elizabeth clutched the bag of breadstuffs. "I can pay you."

"I wouldn' take your money, Ma'am. Leas' I can do." The baker wore a fleeting smile.

"I appreciate it." In order to keep her nose from dripping, Elizabeth sniffled.

The baker curtsied. "If you need anythin' else, drop by again." Elizabeth could sense the underlying worry she had that Elizabeth would take her up on that offer. That was why people generally asked if there was anything they could do to help a situation rather than offer help for a situation.

"I shall." She forced a small, properly grim smile on her face before leaving the flour-filled atmosphere. The sunlight seemed cold again as it spilled onto her tear-stained face.

The whispers started again as she walked back towards her sanctuary, deciding not to visit the butcher shop. She wanted to be back with Jack and she wanted to be alone and she wanted to stomp all over Will's grave and dig him up and look at him again. Why was he not haunting her? She would close her eyes and not see him. After five years together, she should know what he looked like. She should remember his smell, his height, his eye color, the way his voice sounded…but all she had were fragments. She couldn't picture his smile. Then again, the longer they were married, the less he would smile. Maybe that was why it couldn't come to her mind.

All she could see was that entrancing smirk. Why was the pirate helping her? Didn't he have all sorts of things to do for himself? He hadn't been to visit in all the years she'd been married. Hadn't even shown up to their wedding. She was surprised he knew that she had two children. She'd stopped writing letters before William was born because she never received an answer. Elizabeth couldn't understand Jack. It was obvious that he still wanted her, yet he had stopped. That hardly seemed right.

Sighing, Elizabeth stepped forward and very nearly ran into Admiral Norrington. The tall man paused, blinked, and then stepped backwards. "Terribly sorry, Missus Turner," he apologized. "I didn't mean to-"

"It was my fault, Admiral." Elizabeth smiled weakly, her insides crawling at the thought of what Norrington would do if he knew that Jack was in her home.

"Yes, well, I ought to have paid more attention." He stiffly clasped his arms together. "You look well, Elizabeth."

"Thank you." She glanced down at his hands for a moment.

"How are you?"

"I'm managing."

"Apparently so." He glanced at the bread in her arms. "Do you plan to stay locked up in your home for a long while?"

"Hmm?"

He motioned towards the bread. "There's quite a lot there."

"Oh." She nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. I…well, the whispers. I don't want the whispers." She glanced wearily to her left and right as several people pretended they weren't watching the interchange.

Comprehension came to his green eyes as he slowly nodded. "It's probably for the best, then." He smiled. "Remember, if you should need anything, I am at your beck and call."

Elizabeth nodded. "Thank you," she murmured, dropping a curtsy out of habit.

"Would you like some assistance with your groceries?"

"No!" she exclaimed, blushing as she realized how that probably sounded. "I mean…I'm sure you've got plenty to do, Admiral, and it really isn't all that heavy. I'm used to carrying my groceries by myself."

Something flitted across the Admiral's eyes as he looked at her. Will had only been dead for a week and a few days, and she almost seemed to be back to her old self. It wasn't adding up. She hadn't even recoiled upon first spotting him, now that he thought of it. Generally, one would expect her to react adversely to the man who bore such terrible news. "Very well." He touched the brim of his hat. "Good day, Missus Turner."

"Good day Admiral." She watched him leave before anxiously hurrying back towards her home. This wasn't a good sign. He might take it upon himself to pay Elizabeth another visit. She didn't want Jack to be captured on account of her own stupidity. Why did he have to care what she was doing?

Something tightened inside of her as she hurried towards her home. She was an unraveling rope with only a few strings not broken holding up a thousand stones. Something needed to keep her from snapping and she yearned for Jack and his familiar scent. Why couldn't the world be simple?

* * *

_Alexa_: Glad you find it to be a keeper! I'll try to update frequently, so that your checking back isn't in vain. Thank ye kindly for the review!  
_howlongmustiwait_: Here's your new chapter! It's not as exciting as the next chapter is, mind you. In fact, you should await the next chapter with a lot of anticipation. There's all sorts of strawberry goodness... And, aye, I liked his ambiguous statement as well. 'Tis great! Ambiguity is one of the lovely things about our language. Consider the sentence "I help hurt puppies." Does that mean I'm kind and rescue injured puppies or does that mean I'm cruel and enjoy injuring them? Thanks for the review!  
_amber_: I hope to hear from you again. The next chapter is much more better. Thanks for the review!  
_Caitlin: _I appreciate your fervor and your review! Feel free to leave me another one. 


	8. Chapter Eight: The Pastry

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this.

_Author's Note (10/09/06):_ By popular demand, here's the next chapter. Fortunately for you, I'm back ahead of this. I wasn't before. But now I am. And I am tired. I want to sleep. But I can't because then I have to wake up and go to class and think in French and stuff… Oh well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. And I'm going to say this now: I do not write anything above PG-13. Sorry if I disappoint, but there's no budging me on that.

**Chapter Eight: The Pastry**

Elizabeth stepped inside her house and carried the sack of breadstuffs to the counter, setting it down. The table glistened with water and it seemed as though the floor had been swept. Apparently the pirate had a few domestic skills. "Jack?" she called out, seeing no trace of anyone. Maybe he'd just up and left.

He emerged from upstairs a moment later, a large grin on his face. "'Ello, luv!" he said brightly. He walked next to her and purposely reached around her to grab a roll. "I see ye were fruitful in your time away."

"Yes." She smiled slightly, a mixture of awkwardness and desire igniting her skin as he brushed past her. "I didn't even have to spend my generous allotment of your hard-earned stolen money."

"Really?" He looked impressed as he leaned next to the counter and devoured the roll.

"Would I lie to you?"

He considered that for a moment and swallowed his roll. "How was it?"

"How was what?"

"Town."

"They whispered." She shivered slightly. "But…it wasn't as bad as I thought."

"There's no reason t' be afraid o' what others think o' ye, luv."

"I know."

Jack reached around her again to get another roll. "These are good," he remarked through a mouth full of food.

"Will enjoyed them." A lump caught in her throat.

"Well, since 'e chose you to be his bride, we already knew 'e had good taste. In a few things." Jack seemed to not notice the tears threatening to fall.

Elizabeth merely nodded, glancing towards the remaining rolls with slight disgust. Why was it that such a trivial thing brought back so many memories?

"Did ye visit any other stores?"

"No." Elizabeth looked down for a moment. "I couldn't take the whispers any longer. The stares. The looks of sympathy. It was almost as bad as his funeral."

"I imagine it would be." He sighed softly. "People are terribly curious an' selfish creatures." He shook his head. "Some day, they'll forget."

"Oh, I'm sure they will." She subconsciously pushed some of her hair behind her ears. "I mean…it has only been a week and a few days."

He nodded. "I'll give it a month. They'll get used to callin' ye a widow. Or, someone else will 'ave a tragedy strike. Or, e'en better, a scandal."

"I hate being the fuel for gossip."

"Now, tha's a silly stance t' take, dearie." Jack grinned as he grabbed a croissant. "Why not be fuel for gossip?"

"Because then people believe fallacies about you."

"An' why would tha' matter? People can't hurt you if they don' actually know you."

"I suppose for you…gossip is good. But you've got to remember, Jack, I've two small boys who suddenly don't have a father. Everything I do reflects on them. If I don't behave in a proper manner, they won't even be invited to their friends' homes for a playdate."

"Another reason why children cause more grief than joy."

Elizabeth frowned. "They cause me joy, Jack. What do you know of rearing a child, anyway?"

"Nothing, obviously, bu' I do have a crew what acts like ch-"

"You can't say anything to dissuade me from my knowledge, Jack. Children are wonderful. The culmination of love."

"Ye don' need t' love someone to "bless" them wiv a child."

"Well, no, but in my case, they were. They mean more to me than anything else."

"Surely you don' love them while you're changing their nappies or cleaning up a carpet what they spewed on."

"You can love a person and not be happy with them at the same time, Jack Sparrow."

"Oh, is tha' so? Maybe tha's why I've never been in love."

Elizabeth scowled at Jack's sarcastic tone. "Children aren't that bad."

"Then why did ye unload them on your father?"

"I…" She sighed. "Children are a lot of responsibility. Something I don't think you'll ever understand, regardless of how perfectly spectacular you've been since you walked in the door."

Jack chuckled softly and gently touched her cheek, choosing to not get upset. "I've been perfectly spectacular, eh?"

"Yes."

"Glad t' hear that. I was afraid ye'd call me a bit creepy. I mean, a pirate what comes into a woman's house an' doesn' ask for anything while doing her a service? Sounds a bi' fishy t' me."

She smiled slightly, looking much more like her old self than she had in all the time Jack had been with her. "Perfectly spectacular." How was it that her emotions could change so quickly around the eccentric man?

"Well, you've been getting better, which is good. When I firs' saw you, I coulda sworn ye were someone else. But there you are."

"So there's nothing else you're going to order me to do?"

"I'm a captain, luv, it's me place t' give orders."

"That explains a lot." Hungry, she reached into the bag of goods and pulled out a puffed pastry with red jelly made from some fruit in the center. It was sticky and sinful and looked terribly appetizing. She took a large bite out of it, smiling as the sweet taste seemed to satiate that gnawing hunger that had finally been identified.

"Tha' looks very good," Jack remarked, watching her chew as he licked his lips. "Are there any others?"

Elizabeth glanced into the sack and shook her head. "I'm afraid you'll just have to miss out on the strawberry goodness, Captain Sparrow."

"Strawberry?" He looked pained. "Can't I have a taste?"

She shook her head mutely before taking a large bite and finishing it off. A look of enjoyment appeared on her face that made Jack tempted to reach into her mouth and pull the sweetened puff out.

Instead, he reached for her sticky hand. "Tha' wasn't very nice." He stared at her for a moment before an impish grin enveloped his face. He took her hand and then started to insert her fingers into his mouth before she pulled them away.

"That's disgusting," she chided. "You're no better than John."

"How else am I supposed t' get a taste of something I want very much but isn't mine? You've swallowed it."

"I guess you've just missed out." Her eyes were teasing as she turned to move away from the counter.

"I guess not." He put his arms around her and grabbed the countertop with both, effectively pinning her in place. "I take what I want because I want it, same as I do what I want." He smirked that irresistible smirk that made him so famous among females. "I want a taste."

Elizabeth could feel no sudden guilt come upon her this time as he leaned in and kissed her again. Actually, there seemed to be relief. Perhaps she wouldn't become undesirable like most of the women who were widowed. She'd never wanted to be so selfish before in her life. Jack seemed to have all the answers. If she spent time with him, maybe she would too.

Jack put his hand behind her head before he finally ended the kiss, looking at her much the same way he had when she'd chained him to the mast of his own ship. "There's easier ways t' share pasties."

She laughed. "Not as fun," she murmured. "You certainly kiss better than he did."

Rather than taking that as a compliment, Jack let go of the counter and stepped back. "I'm no' going to be a stand in for him, Elizabeth."

Confused, she blinked a few times. "I fail to see how I was implying-"

"Elizabeth, I don' want to be compared to him, I don' want you to be thinking about him. Three makes the bed a bi' crowded, don' it?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I…think I might understand. I just…well, it's the truth. You do kiss better than him."

Jack smiled very slightly. "Aye, well, I've had more practice than 'im." He sighed softly, putting his hand on her cheek. "If you really wan' t' do this, Elizabeth, I want it to jus' be us…to get lost in each others arms. No one else. It can't be beautiful any other way…it's jus' _empty_."

"I understand. I…I need it to be beautiful, Jack. I can't be so empty any more. My world was so dark. And then you came like a patch of blue in a grey storm. I need you. Here and now." She kissed him back, tracing the scar on his chin with her index finger.

He looked pleased when she pulled away. "Good." He certainly wasn't the captain he'd been before. He'd shown an amazing degree of self-control. However, with her so close and so willing to say that it would be beautiful, he couldn't help himself.

As Jack kissed her again, Elizabeth got the oddest sensation of being enveloped by a painless fire. Every limb seemed to be burning. She'd experienced something similar with Will, of course, but it was never like this. All thoughts fled from her mind as she let the flame carry her away.

* * *

_Daisy_: I am updating this too fast, aren't I? I should stop. You know, just leave it hanging forever the way it is now. Pity I already have four more chapters ready to post... I loved Little Women! I once gave a book report on it. Got a really good score. Random information, but it's nearly midnight and I'm busy thinking about going to class tomorrow. Icky class. I prefer all-nighters, personally, because I like to stay up late. But it would be wise for me to be like you and spread it out a bit. Which reminds me, I need to write a creative non-fiction essay with a metaphor... Eww. I don't like metaphors. Oh, and I fixed the thing you pointed out on 'Ello Beastie. Just thought I'd put that here so I don't forget. Good luck with homework!  
_Alexa_: The kids are coming back in a few chapters, never fear. They haven't disappeared. Thanks for the review!  
_howlongmustiwait_: What can I say? I'm just evil. However...here's another chapter for you to drool over or something. I did like your methods of persuasion...though, I refrained from updating right away, as you likely noticed. Had to hit seven reviews first. I'll choose a different number next time for randomness. Hope you enjoyed it, wouldn't mind some more begging or bribing...it'd be swell, in fact. 


	9. Chapter Nine: The Visitors

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be writing this.

_Author's Note (10/10/06):_ I feel icky. I think I've got the flu. Yet I still have to go to classes. What a bummer. Don't want to diagram sentences or finish reading political essays about T.S Eliot's "the Waste Land." Oh well. I'll do it anyway. Hope you enjoy this. And leave me reviews. Or chicken soup. That would be good too…

**Chapter Nine: The Visitors**

A knock at the door startled Elizabeth. She fidgeted in Jack's arms, looking at him curiously as he merely gripped her more tightly. They'd made it up to the bedroom, so if the visitor decided to barge in unannounced like Jack had it wouldn't be quite as awkward. "I need to go answer the door."

"Why? I thought you were disconsolate wiv grief." He yawned and kissed her. "I say, le' them decide to go away."

"You didn't decide to go away," she pointed out as she tugged at his arms. "Imagine the scandal if they knew what we'd just done."

"All the more reason t' do it again." He chuckled and kissed her. "Besides, I don' think they'd care if ye din' answer."

Elizabeth smiled slightly and kissed him back. "Yes, but if I don't answer, they'll probably rush in, afraid I'd offed myself, and they'd find me and you and it would be quite the scandal."

"Do let's," Jack murmured. "Sounds like fun."

"Unless, of course, it's the Admiral," Elizabeth pointed out, squirming her way out of his firm grip. "He'd probably shoot the two of us on the spot."

"Does 'e still have a flame for ye?" the pirate asked as he let go of Elizabeth and lazily stretched.

"Well, he _never_ did marry." Elizabeth stood and grabbed her dress, throwing it on as her visitor knocked again. "I think it's a distinct possibility." She straightened her dress. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful. There's a smile on yer face. You're practically glowing wiv contentment." Jack grinned and stood. "Hardly like a grieving widow."

"It's a bit hard to grieve after that much fun, I must admit." She eyed him hungrily, desperately wanting to trace the various scars on his arms and chest.

"Weren' you going t' answer the door?" Jack asked, amused at the look in her eyes.

"Right." She shook her head slightly and tried to adopt the grim face that had been her companion for so long. "Do I look reasonably upset?"

"One can only hope." He smiled encouragingly, motioning towards the door. "Ye'd best hurry, darling, because I've got a feelin' they'll be entering of their own accord in jus' a moment."

She nodded. "Stay up here."

"Tha' was me plan." He chuckled. "I'll keep the mattress warm."

She laughed at that. It sounded odd in the depressing home, but she felt too wonderful to keep it in. The contrast of feelings was astounding. A week ago, she'd felt as though she'd never feel joy or love or anything again. She yearned for death. And now, now she wanted to live. "Good plan."

The front door opened and Elizabeth heard someone call out, "Hello?" Judging by the sound, it was a woman. Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat as she stepped onto the staircase and down the stairs. She'd been so worried it really was the Admiral after all.

A plump and dowdy woman stood by the doorway. She smiled slightly when she spotted Elizabeth. Elizabeth tried to mask the look of dismay on her face when she recognized the woman. "Hello Missus Shelby."

"Elizabeth, child, are you quite all right?" The kindly gossiping older woman was looking Elizabeth over anxiously, trying to find any hint of scandal about her personage.

"I'm managing, Missus Shelby."

"Oh, child, call me Nancy." She looked around the room curiously before taking a seat on the couch. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Not that I can think of." Elizabeth wasn't particularly fond of people like Nancy Shelby. It was very clear that the woman was trying to find Jack, but she was trying and failing in her attempt to be subtle.

"No more laundry?"

"I'm quite capable of doing my own laundry." Elizabeth slowly took a seat on the armchair, wishing that she could wave her hand and have the woman disappear. Cordiality dictated that she endure any houseguest for as long as they wished to stay.

Nancy winked. "Oh," she said in a horribly suggestive tone. "If you need any more laundry to be cleaned, feel free to send your personal courier over."

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about." Elizabeth tried to keep her cheeks from burning as she thought of the dark eyed captain waiting for her in the bed she used to share with her husband.

"Then why did I hear talking when I came in?" Nancy's eyes were wide with curiosity.

Elizabeth shrugged. "I suppose I was talking to myself." She sniffled, desperately trying to make tears fall. They just wouldn't come.

Nancy watched Elizabeth critically. She seemed about to say something when there was another knock at the door. Both women jumped.

Elizabeth, grateful for the distraction, stood and went to the door. Both she and Nancy knew that she was lying, but Elizabeth didn't want to admit that Jack really was there. She was afraid that if she said it she would wake up and discover this had all been a dream or that Nancy would go snooping about upstairs and jump to the correct embarrassing conclusion as to what had happened.

Patricia was outside the door. John was in her arms and William was clutching to her green silk skirts. "Mama!" William exclaimed happily, letting go of the green skirts and wrapping his small arms around Elizabeth's.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth," Patricia apologized, handing John over. The toddler seemed to have fallen asleep during the carriage ride from the other side of town and didn't even stir. "They wanted to see you."

"That's quite all right." Elizabeth gently kissed John's cheek, shifting him to one arm so she could pat William's head. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed them. "Thank you for watching them for so long."

Patricia nodded, brushing a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear before placing her hand on her growing belly. It was highly improper for her to be out and about while so obviously pregnant. "I would love to watch them longer, but they just can't stop crying." It was clear she was implying she couldn't handle the noise any longer. Patricia was of a sickly sort, prone to exaggerating any ailment to the extreme.

"I see." Elizabeth looked down at William. "Did you miss Mama?"

"Yes." He sniffled. "Where's Papa?"

"He's up in heaven." Elizabeth felt the slightest sting of tears behind her eyes, but did not start crying.

"Oh." William sighed, nestling into her skirts. "You smell good."

"Thank you." She smiled and kissed John's cheek again.

"You seem to be doing remarkably well." Patricia sounded relieved.

"I'm managing." Elizabeth was sick of giving that phrase as an answer, but there really was nothing else respectful towards her departed husband she could say in response to comments like that.

"If you need us to watch them, send for a carriage. Your father just has too much to do right now to be what they need."

"I understand." Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Patricia."

"You're welcome." The elegant wife of Governor Swann turned and left. She didn't bother saying goodbye to her grandchildren. That was one reason why Elizabeth wasn't fond of her.

She watched her get into the carriage and then looked back down at William. "Are you hungry, love?"

William nodded and ran into the house, stopping and nearly falling when he spotted Nancy. "Hello," he said, squirming. He'd never entirely been fond of strangers.

"Hello, there little one." Nancy smiled. "You look very much like your Papa."

"Can you watch him for a moment?" Elizabeth asked, sparing William from having to respond to that. She'd never been fond of people saying that children resembled only one of their parents. William the third looked like himself, not like Will. She looked towards the stairs and then at John. "He needs his nap."

"Of course!" Nancy smiled at Elizabeth, sufficiently distracted from her search for Jack.

Elizabeth started up the stairs, gently cradling her softly snoring son. He could sleep through practically anything once he fell asleep. As a result, he'd been a very easy baby to have with a toddler afoot.

Once in her bedroom, Elizabeth seemed amused as Jack stared at her. "It's time for a nap," she said loudly, sure that Nancy was listening. "William will join you after he has a small snack."

Jack watched her disappear into the other room. She placed John on the straw mattress and covered him with his favorite blanket before kissing his forehead and smoothing his fine hair. Then she went back into the other room, placing a finger to her lips.

Jack nodded his understanding. "Get rid o' her as fast as ye possibly can," he whispered.

"I will." She smiled slightly. The boys certainly complicated everything. That said, she went downstairs to endure gossip and to give William a small snack.

* * *

_Daisy:_ I once watched an entire show about puffed pastries. They look incredibly delectable. Wish I had the aspiration to cook one. The tragedy part is that I don't actually have a pastry. No, just kidding. The tragedy part, I suppose, is the fact that Will is dead...but I can throw something else in if you'd really like me to. I think your poster has great potential to come alive. Yep. My dreams are haunted by the very thought of that. Good luck with your homework, once more, an' thanks for the review!  
_howlongmustiwait:_ Aye...er...you'll see more of Jack's comments on children in the future that you probably won't like, but he sort of explains himself so it doesn't seem quite as bad, if that makes any sense at all. The sun is starting to come up and I still need to shower, so I apologize if this is a bit brief. I like chocolate chocolate chip cookies the best, I think. Oooh, and Danishes. If that's their plural...anyway, they're yummy. That's why I'm posting this now as I wait for my roommate to get out of the shower. Thanks for the review, hope to see another one! 


	10. Chapter Ten: The Neighbors

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to write this. I don't really have time anymore, either, but neither fact is stopping me! Ha!

_Author's Note (10/10/06)_: Guess what? In four years, exactly, it will be 10/10/10. How awesome is that? I meant to put that on my note this morning, but I forgot. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. And…I know there's anachronisms abounding in this fic. I do some of them on purpose. Like the major ones in here that most of you probably won't catch. But no worries. Jamba Juice for everyone! Yay!

**Chapter Ten: The Neighbors**

"Will Papa ever come back from heaven?" William asked innocently as soon as Nancy left and closed the door. He had a terribly serious look on his small face as he got down from the chair he'd been sitting at near the table.

"No, he won't." Elizabeth looked over at her. "Just like Spot never came back."

"Oh." William looked down at the floor. Spot, their dog, had been his very special friend. "I miss him."

"I do too." Elizabeth put down the wet rag she was using to clean bread crumbs off the counter. "He'll never be completely gone, as long as you remember him."

"I'll remember the way he was teaching me to fight," William said excitedly. Up above, John started to cry, signifying he wanted attention. He was no doubt disoriented at being back in his own home when the last thing he remembered was the pretty horses hitched to Grandmother's carriage.

"That's a very good thing to remember about him." She smiled and started towards the stairs. The noise from above stopped, however, and William needed her more right now. "I'll have to teach you a few things about that also." She knelt next to him and gently kissed his forehead. "Papa was a very good man."

"That's what Grandfather said." William was clearly trying to be brave around Elizabeth. Patricia had warned him not to cry. "I miss him," he finally admitted as tears spilled from his light brown eyes. "Why did he have to die?"

"I don't know." Elizabeth enfolded him in her arms. "All we can do is move on, though. We can't get so caught up in tears or sorrow that we don't do anything at all. He wouldn't want us to be miserable."

William nodded, though he'd probably only understood a fraction of what she'd said. He tried to swallow his tears. "Now how will I be able to make swords? Papa said he was going to teach me when I was bigger an' he'll never see me bigger." Fresh tears washed down his face. This was probably what had been bothering him the most.

Elizabeth tenderly kissed the top of his head. "We'll manage," she promised.

"Of course ye will," the unmistakable voice of Captain Sparrow said as he stepped down the last stair. He was holding John, who was staring at the various trinkets in Jack's hair, absolutely fascinated. "I believe this young sailor wants t' eat in the near future." John reached out and touched the shiny silver trinket hanging from a heavily beaded braid.

Elizabeth gently kissed William again before standing up straight. "Well, then, I suppose I should start making dinner."

William stared at Jack as the pirate sat down in the chair, putting John on his knee and bouncing him. Surprisingly, Jack seemed to treat John as though he were a miniature person rather than some sort of porcelain doll. Most men were uncomfortable around small children. They seemed terribly fragile.

"Who are you?" William forgot his tears and runny nose as he stepped forward to examine the curiously-arrayed pirate.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, son." He grinned. "An' who are you?"

"William Turner the third." The lad stopped near the armchair and peered intently at the captain. His eyes were bright with curiosity. "Are you really Cap'n Sparrow?" Jack was one of his idols. Who better to imitate at such an impressionable age than the pirate everyone talked about. Most of the bedtime stories Elizabeth told him involved Jack in one sticky situation or another.

"Aye." Jack grinned because he was pleased to see the touch of idolatry in the child's eyes. John started laughing as Jack bounced him up and down in an erratic rhythm. The adults had been treating the toddler as though he were another adult for the past few days and he had been terribly bored as a result.

"Did you take the queen of Nirgereria's crown?"

Jack glanced over at Elizabeth, clearly amused. As far as he knew, he'd never been to Nigeria.

She shrugged slightly, blushing at the smirk on his face. It was just something she'd told William once because he wanted a new story. She never did tell things exactly how they happened, even in the experiences she'd shared with the infamous captain. William was only four.

Satisfied, Jack looked back at his captivated young audience. "Aye, I did," he confirmed. The captain was terribly good at lying. "I'll 'ave t' tell you wha' _really_ happened, though. Yer mum only knows so much."

"Really?" William's eyes widened to roughly the size of saucers.

"Aye."

"Can you watch the boys for a moment?" Elizabeth interrupted, staring in the empty cupboard. All she had was the bread she'd gotten from the baker and that didn't really make a good meal for four.

"Aye, I can." Jack's voice was reassuring as he stopped bouncing John and waved to William, inviting him up onto his lap as well.

Pleased, Elizabeth wiped her hands on a towel and went outside, full of more joy than she thought possible so soon after Will's funeral. Jack was good with children and that made her feel spectacular. Perhaps, ultimately, Will's death would become a great boon to her life.

She walked to the Harris household, not particularly in the mood to deal with Nancy Shelby again. It was a lovely little house with a carefully manicured lawn and large shrubbery near the front door. Elizabeth walked to the white oak door and slowly knocked.

Lucy Harris opened the door, clearly stunned to see Elizabeth standing there looking so terribly normal. "May I help you?"

"Yes." Elizabeth looked vaguely uncomfortable. She hated to ask for help. "Do you have any spare flour, sugar or anything else that I could purchase from you?"

Lucy put a hand to her ear. "Come again?" The short woman was very hard of hearing. It was something that often made her husband, Martin, rather upset.

Elizabeth glanced down. "Do you have any spare provisions?" she asked again, louder.

"Oh." Lucy thought for a moment. A spark came to her brilliant blue eyes. "I do." She smiled brightly. "I was planning on sending Preserved over with them today, actually."

"You're far too kind." She pulled out the small sack of money Jack had given her and started to hand Lucy several shillings, but Lucy shook her head. If Elizabeth had realized how willing her neighbors were to help, she might have asked for it sooner. A tear came to her eyes. These people hardly knew her and yet they were willing to offer more than she'd expected.

"Just a moment, Missus Turner." Lucy stepped into her house and loudly yelled, "Preserved! Come down here!"

Her brother-in-law tromped down the stairs noisily. He was a large man that was unfortunately already balding, though he was only in his mid twenties. "Yes?" he asked, not noticing Elizabeth standing on their porch.

"Take Missus Turner home with the food I prepared for her." She smiled as foul air exuded from the gaps in her teeth. Lucy already had grand designs to join Preserved and Elizabeth together.

"Yes, Lucy." Preserved didn't exactly seem thrilled. He hardly thought himself attractive enough to deserve more than a friendly glance from Elizabeth. He stepped outside the house, past Elizabeth. Then he went to the barn and pulled out a small wagon filled with flour, smoked meat, apples, and various other foodstuffs that would probably feed her small family for a month.

Tears spilled down her face as she looked back at Lucy. "This is a godsend."

"Don't mention it." Lucy smiled again as a fly buzzed around her face. "If you need anything else, don't hesitate to visit."

"Thank you." She brushed a tear away and curtsied. "I don't know how to repay you."

"You don't need to worry about it." She smiled. "Good day, Missus Turner."

"Good day, Missus Harris." Elizabeth smiled weakly as Lucy shut the door to tend to one of her squabbling children. The folk around Port Royal often rallied together when tragedy struck.

Preserved looked at Elizabeth anxiously, clearly building up the courage to say something to the woman. "Come along, Missus Turner." He escorted her back to her home. "Would you like me to help you bring these in?"

Elizabeth paled. "Oh, no." The thought of the greasy-faced man finding Jack made her physically ill. "I keep most of my foodstuffs in the smokehouse. It's easier to get to. I'd hate to wake John up." She hoped that Preserved couldn't hear the unmistakable sound of John and William laughing as Jack relayed whatever story it was he was telling them. She wished she could be in there with them.

"Very well." Preserved pulled the small cart to the miniscule smokehouse in the backyard opposite the outhouse. Will clearly wasn't a carpenter. He'd tried to fix the roof several times, but Elizabeth still found her flour was wet more often than not. It was a ramshackle little thing that hardly seemed to belong with the quaint brick house.

Preserved pulled the barrel of apples out first, stacking it near the wall. He then proceeded to empty the entire cart, which had more than enough for Elizabeth to survive on for a while. Sweaty after finishing, Preserved bowed without saying anything as Elizabeth vocally thanked him. He pulled the wagon away and Elizabeth entered her house through the back door after grabbing a few ingredients to start the meal quickly in order to keep John from getting cranky.

* * *

_Daisy: _Girls, on the whole, are far too noisy. All the time. And high pitched. And annoying. Our complex is noisy. The walls are like paper, but they're brick. Thank you for the review. I wish I was Elizabeth too. But I'm not. I have to be content staring at posters. You should tell them to shut up. Yep. I like to tell people to shut up. They're all freshmen. Blech. Good luck with chemistry. Thanks for the review.  
_howlongmustiwait_: Thank you for the soup an' cookies. They were muchly appreciated. And enjoyed. Oooh...he's totally hott. Sorry. I'm watching Red Eye. Anyway, thank you for the lovely review. I agree. I like seeing this side of Jack too. It'd be swell if we saw something similar in movie 3... Ah...that is a good idea, that is. We'll see how it pans out, though. Yep, he's hott. Er...sorry again. Hope you enjoy this chapter! 


	11. Chapter Eleven: The Dishes

Disclaimer: I ought not to be writing this. But I am. So ha. Don't have permission to be using these characters.

_Author's Note (10/11/06)_: Yay! I reached my magic number incredibly fast yesterday. As a result, here's a new chapter. Gummy bears to whoever can tell me which Johnny Depp movie I allude to in this one.

**Chapter Eleven: The Dishes**

"I thought _tha'_ was me job," Jack remarked as he came down the stairs. John and William were cozy in their bed, prepared to sleep the entire night. He'd exhausted them by playing all sorts of rowdy games that little boys loved.

"What, cooking?"

"Aye." He motioned towards her as she scrubbed the pot she'd used to cook with. "An' the cleaning."

"I thought your job was to be the best pirate captain in the world."

"Well, aye, it generally is." He grinned. "Right now, it jus' so happens me job is t' be a selfless individual." He motioned for her to leave the pot.

"You put the boys to bed, Jack. In all that's fair, I should do the cleaning."

He rolled his eyes and walked up to her, boldly stealing the rag on the counter she usually used to dry the dishes. "Let me help, then."

"If you insist." She pointed towards the wet dishes in the sink. "Those need to be dried and put away.

"I can handle tha'." He grinned and grabbed the first dish, rubbing it dry carefully to not break the delicate baked clay.

"Thank you, Jack," Elizabeth said softly as she looked up to watch him for a moment. He looked rather unusual cleaning because of his profession, but it seemed to suit him.

"No need for pleasantries like tha', luv. Ye needed a good bedding."

She snickered. "I don't entirely think we're talking about the same thing."

He paused for a moment, clearly thinking. "Oh. Er…no problem, luv. The knits like me."

"How could they not?"

"Well, I suppose I could either ignore them or act mean. They wouldn' like me then." He set the newly dried dish on the counter.

"Do they bother you?"

"Not really." He smiled slightly. "I can see why ye love 'em so much. Very adorable."

"So you've revised your opinion of children?"

"Hardly. They complicate things horribly." He picked up a plate to dry.

"They add a new dimension to life, Jack Sparrow. You could learn a thing or two about being selfless and responsible if you had children."

"Who said I don'?" He smirked slightly, his hand moving the rag around the dish slowly.

"Don't what?" She was afraid of the answer.

"Have children." He wiped the dish with increasing speed. "I have children. They complicate things. The mothers of said children hate me because I was never there for them." He pulled a face. "I never gave them any reason t' assume I'd be a Prince Charming or a good father, for the mos' part. I'd come back, expectin' t' pick up things where I'd left off an' that things would be shiny, bu' all that was waiting for me was vindictiveness an' slaps."

"How many children do you have?"

"Why the sudden curiosity? Are ye jealous?" He smirked teasingly at her.

She looked intently into the pot she was scrubbing.

"My past ain't perfect, luv. A man what lives like I did is bound to make more'n a few little ones."

She started scrubbing.

"I know tha' thought is hardly comforting…but when I know about the bundle of joy I generally leave a generous allowance for them."

"How many children do you have that you know about?" She stopped scrubbing, looking into his eyes again.

"Five."

"Did you love any of their mothers?"

"Yes." That answer seemed to make Elizabeth's heart jump to her throat.

"How many?" Her voice was low and strained. She had to know.

"Two." He sighed softly, setting the dry plate down. "One loved me. I loved two. Two were strumpets."

"Ah." She looked down into the pot again.

"Anythin' else you want t' know? Not often I'm going t' be this honest."

"What happened to the two you loved?"

Jack set the towel down on the counter. "The first one din' love me. I left for a few days an' then saw her wiv another man. I guess, technically, the child might not be mine. The second…" His voice unexpectedly caught. "I killed her."

"What?" Elizabeth dropped her brush into the pot full of dirty water. It splashed up and hit her near the eye.

"I din' mean to kill her."

"I should hope not!"

"Are ye goin' t let me explain?" His eyes were dark and surprisingly moody.

"Sorry."

"I fell in love wiv a lass named Meagan Kent. A fine, respectable woman what had a kind heart. She was beautiful, too, bu' tha's not why I was attracted to her."

"What happened to her?"

"I was getting to that." He seemed vaguely annoyed as he grabbed another dish to dry. "I met her in a garden. She seemed absolutely perfect an' me opinion of her just got better each time I saw her. She was in love wiv me, I loved her…I convinced her t' spend some quality time wiv me, as was me nature, and she agreed. A few weeks after that, I was genuinely going t' propose. She seemed t' anticipate me every desire, able to cater t' me every whim. And she was terribly outspoken and had a great sense of humor. Those emerald green eyes of hers…they were spectacular." He sighed, clearly caught up in a memory. "I got drunk one night. One of me so-called friends invited a strumpet over an'…well, I couldn't control meself. Meagan came to talk to me abou' something and found me with the woman. She threw a ring I gave 'er at me." He pointed to the large silver one on his index finger. "Then she left."

Elizabeth looked at him curiously, clearly wondering how in the world he'd decided that amounted to killing her.

He looked at her and laughed softly. "I'm not finished, yet." His eyes were full of pain and Elizabeth suddenly understood how it was that he knew how to help her through her grief. "I ran in'o her again two years later, when I sacked Nassau. There was only one shot fired that night." He looked at his hands. "I was in the governor's house, getting the key t' the treasury. It was a brilliant plan, really, an' it involved very little risk. I took me pistol wiv me, to persuade the governor t' see things my way. I was near the governor's room when I heard someone moving nearby. Thinking tha' they were about to attack, I shot wivout thinking and started towards the door. A hand reached out an' grabbed my boots. I looked down…an'…" A tear spilled down his left cheek. "It was Meagan. Blood was everywhere. I killed her an'…an' she didn' seem angry. Only told me t' take care of our daughter before she died."

"It was an accident, Jack." Elizabeth stepped forward, taking his hand in hers.

"I know." He smiled weakly, squeezing her hand. "I did kill her, though." He looked back at his ring. "Rosemary, my daughter, now lives with my sister. Lovely lass. Thinks she's an orphan. When I think abou' how…how I jus' let Meagan go wivout looking for her…" He shook his head. "I decided there an' then tha' I din' want to fall in love ever again because it was too painful."

Elizabeth nodded understandingly, though her face fell. Suddenly all the ridiculous dreams she'd had of Jack sweeping her off her feet disappeared. He was just here to comfort her and maybe get some comfort himself.

"Children complicate things," he reiterated. "I made her life hard, Elizabeth, when I helped create Rosemary. She was used t' being looked after, an' then she found herself carrying an illegitimate child…" He sighed softly.

"I'm sure she didn't see it that way," she said consolingly. She gently kissed his hand. "If she really loved you, and it sounds as though she did, I'm sure she treasured that baby."

He smiled slightly. "Nice of ye t' say that." He glanced at his ring for a moment. "There are other reasons I'm think they're complications, luv. I'm a man o' the sea an' a pirate ship is no place for a little one. Besides the fact tha' there's numerous hazards t' their health, I live wiv a crew of cutthroats what might even hurt a child."

"I suppose that makes sense." Elizabeth tried not to look too crushed as all her barely conceived dreams disappeared like smoke in the wind.

"Can't even really seriously get involved wiv a woman. Love and piracy don' mix." He smiled a bit oddly. "I tole meself I'd never fall in love again because it was jus' an unnecessary complication, but the odd thing is…" He looked at her and then gently kissed her hand. "I find myself falling righ' now. You've changed me more than ye could possibly imagine, Elizabeth Turner."

Her heart caught in her chest. "Is that good or bad?"

"Haven't decided, yet." He grinned and pulled her close to him. Then he kissed her. An intense fire burned from her lips to her fingertips as she hungrily returned the kiss. Maybe her fondest hopes weren't in vain.

"Can I keep you?" he asked softly, peering into her eyes with an intensity that made her feel as though he were peering into her being.

"I am yours." She kissed him. "For as long as you'll have me."

"That's fortunate." He grinned, running his fingers along the nape of her neck. "I intend t' have you for a long, long, _long_ while."

She shivered before pushing his hand away. "I have to finish scrubbing this pot first, Jack," she chided.

Jack frowned. "Ye saucy wench," he said exasperatedly. "Get me all fired up an' then bring dishwashing into the mix."

She smiled slightly and turned, grabbing the brush from the murky water before scrubbing the sides again.

Jack sighed softly, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently massaging. "You're very tense," he remarked.

"And that feels absolutely heavenly." Elizabeth sighed contentedly, dropping the brush.

"Tha's hardly fair." He stopped moving his hands. "If you're going t' scrub, scrub. If not…" He leaned next to her, threatening to kiss her again. "I'm not a patient man, Elizabeth."

"You've been remarkably patient so far."

"Well, I've had a taste an' I want more." He kissed her neck. "An' I'd like it now, rather than later."

"What if I'm tired?" Elizabeth didn't know why she wanted to tease the pirate captain. She'd given up teasing Will most of the time because he took it far too seriously.

"Your tone of voice would suggest otherwise." He kissed her neck again.

"I _could_ have a headache." She hardly sounded convincing. It was very easy to see how women could be so completely enthralled by the curious captain.

"An' I would call you a liar. Tha's probably the wors' excuse ever." He turned her around to face him. "Forget about the pot for now. I'll clean it in the morning."

"All right." She smiled and kissed him, wrapping her arms around him. "As long as _you_ clean it."

"The things I do for you," he said sarcastically. "Honestly. Cleaning?" He grinned and kissed her in such a way that she couldn't think of anything but him.


	12. Chapter Twelve: The Surprise

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be using these characters.

_Author's Note (10/12/06)_: I really should be working on my PowerPoint presentation about political readings on T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land" right now…but I've been told we ought not to should on ourselves, so… I'm doing this instead. Ha. I've now caught up to what I've got written, so…updates will maybe be less frequent. Except for the fact that I only have one class tomorrow…so, actually, I'll probably get ahead again. Yay! Go me! I no longer feel all flu-like, but I have a nasty and annoying cough that won't make me lose my voice like I want it to. I think it would be fun to lose my voice. Then I wouldn't have to speak in French.  
Anyway, the movie I made a specific reference to (with Johnny Depp) was _Cry-Baby_. If you haven't seen it, see it. It's hilarious and he's very attractive in it. It's the tear going down his left cheek. There were various other references too, some that I didn't realize, even. "Can I keep you?" is from _Casper_. I happened to be watching it at the time. I allude to _Finding Neverland_, too. And…there are others, but for the sake of length, I'm not going to go into those.

**Chapter Twelve: The Surprise**

"Elizabeth, wake up." Jack's voice was urgent at the unholy hour of six in the morning. "There's someone a' the door an' I can't exactly answer it." He prodded her shoulder as she opened her eyes and tried to wet her dry throat. He was kneeling near her and she felt terribly cold.

"What?" she asked groggily. She hadn't needed to be alert this early since John started sleeping through the night. Being a young mother, she'd learned how to utilize every moment of sleep.

"Someone a' the door." Jack pointed towards her nightdress. "Go answer 'fore they wake the knits."

"Oh." Her eyes widened as she sat up and grabbed her nightdress, quickly throwing it and a robe on before brushing her messy hair behind her ear.

Jack had his pistol in his hands as he went to the other room, pausing near the door. His senses were on high alert and his muscles were taut, prepared to spring into action. There was something about to happen and he knew it.

"Do you think that entirely necessary?" She glanced at the loaded weapon. Swords were bad enough, but now her boys were going to be exposed to a gun?

"Yes." There was a grim look in his eyes. "Go on, go on," he prompted, motioning to the staircase with his free hand. "Get it before he comes in."

She quirked a brow and walked down the stairs, blinking a few times to get the final remains of sleep from her eyes. She really didn't know how Jack had heard a knock at the door so early, but trusted he wouldn't overreact for no reason.

Admiral James Norrington stood at the door after she opened it. There was a worried look to his face as he carefully looked at Elizabeth. "I apologize for coming so early, Missus Turner, but I've had a worry pressing on my mind for the past few hours and wanted to see if you were…managing, I suppose." He looked tired. So tired he'd forgotten to put on his mask of civil disdain, actually. Ever since being re-commissioned, he'd adopted an air of cynicism towards the citizens who had so easily let him disappear to the filth of Tortuga. He was still very much professional, of course, but one could tell that the James of the pig sty was still present in his character. Seeing him so completely human made Elizabeth uneasy.

"I am, Admiral." She had to look away from his piercing gaze, afraid she would betray the fact that there was a wanted criminal upstairs.

Norrington nodded, though the look of relief on his face seemed a trifle forced. "May I come in?"

Elizabeth hesitated.

"I promise I won't stay long. I just…there are a few things that must be discussed."

She slowly nodded. "John and William will be up shortly, so I don't have very long." She stepped back and motioned him inside.

"I understand." He stepped inside. Elizabeth motioned for him to take a seat, so he did. She then sat in the chair across from him.

Outside the window, the aspen tree shivered in the wind. Most of the leaves now littered the front lawn. The world seemed so quiet and still at six in the morning, even though she knew that Martin Harris was out milking his cow by now and that John would shortly be up begging for something to eat. The world would continue on without Will Turner, just like it had been doing for the last week or so. It didn't care that he was gone and Elizabeth now realized that. She had loved a great man, a hero, and now he was dead and she could move on.

After a long pause, Norrington shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I don't know how to say this, Elizabeth, but…" He looked directly into her eyes. "I was thrilled to learn that Will died."

Elizabeth blinked. "What?" That had come from no where.

He seemed to realize how callous that sounded. "What I mean to say is…well…" He sighed and then took a deep breath. "Elizabeth, you have caught my interest ever since I first met you. My opinion of you has only grown over the years and, well, giving you up was the most difficult thing I have ever done. I know it sounds rather rude of me, but Will did not deserve you." He seemed to lose a lot of tautness to his face.

"Beg pardon?" Elizabeth wondered if she was really still asleep.

"You are a woman who deserves a man that respects, admires, and actually complements you." He leaned forward, suddenly animated. "You and Will never seemed to belong together, Elizabeth, not after the whole mess at World's End. Something happened to you two that he never seemed able to reconcile. He became a stalwart member of the community and you languished. You deserved and should have better."

She had to still be dreaming. "What in the world possessed you to come here and tell me that?"

"I intend to woo you."

Dumbstruck, Elizabeth's mouth opened.

"I know this is very forward of me, Elizabeth, but I can't deny myself any longer." The look in his eyes was almost startling. "There is only one thing of merit I learned in Tortuga and that is denying myself what I want only makes me miserable. I want you and I intend to have you."

"What, right here on the front room floor?" The quip slipped from Elizabeth. She'd been in Jack's company far too long.

Norrington's eyes widened as he caught the implication he'd just made. "Oh…no, no, no. Nothing so base as that, Elizabeth. I respect you far too much to objectify you in such a way. It is my intention to marry you."

"And if I refuse?"

Norrington frowned slightly. "Elizabeth, be honest with yourself. Do you really intend to raise your sons alone? Am I that bad of a replacement?"

"Will has only been dead for a week and-"

"Elizabeth, I am not stupid. It's as clear as day that your feelings of grief have substantially subsided."

"I'm not ready, James." She sat back as far in her chair as she possibly could. "I'm not ready for a commitment like that. I hardly share your unrequited love."

A pained look appeared on Norrington's face as he sat back as well. Elizabeth felt somewhat guilty. "Perhaps, in time…" He slowly stood. "I will not let this matter lay, Elizabeth, not like before. I will have you."

Elizabeth stared at him as though he'd just said something in an incomprehensible language. She'd never realized that he actually still did love her. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, yet." He smiled slightly, looking very much unlike himself when he proposed the first time.

Elizabeth flushed and looked down at her hands, wondering what he'd say if he knew who was upstairs guarding her children. Jack could probably hear every word she was (and, more importantly, wasn't) saying. "James, I have to tell you-"

John started crying upstairs. Elizabeth stood automatically, intending to check on the child, but was stopped by Norrington's hand. "Let him cry for just a moment. What was it you were saying?"

"This is unexpected." She frowned. "This is _very_ unexpected, James. Will has only been dead for a week and you're trying to take his place. I'm not looking for a replacement."

John's wailing grew louder. William called out, "Mama?"

"I came too soon," Norrington apologized, looking disappointed and determined. "I will not watch you slip away into nothing, Elizabeth. I'll be back." He stood and walked out the door.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Elizabeth quickly hurried up the stairs. She brushed past Jack without saying anything and picked up John. The toddler quickly quieted, snuggling into Elizabeth's arms.

"Come on, boys." Her voice was soft as she glanced at John, William, and Jack. "Let's have breakfast."

Jack quickly shook his head. "He'll be back," he prophesied. "I'll wait."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "The man just made a fool of himself, Jack! Why would he come back?"

"Trust me, he'll be back."

She pouted for a moment. William tugged on her skirts. "I hungry."

"I know. I am too." She motioned towards the stairs. "Go on down. I'll join you in a moment. How do pancakes sound?"

William grinned. "Good." With an exuberance only a child could have, he rushed to the staircase and slid down the stairs.

Elizabeth looked at Jack. "What happened to my personal chef?"

"He was replaced by a pirate."

Jack's seriousness was terribly alarming. "Fine." She kissed John's forehead, wondering why her lips were so warm. "I might send something up. Probably won't, as James isn't coming back…"

The pirate shrugged. "Better t' be safe than dead, luv."

She sighed and went downstairs. She put John down on the floor before going to the kitchen to make the batter for flapjacks and to warm the stove.

There was another knock at the door when the stove reached the correct temperature. She left the nearly prepared batter on the counter as William opened the door.

"Why is he always right?" Elizabeth asked herself when she spied Admiral Norrington standing there with a bouquet.

"Hello William," Norrington greeted a bit stiffly.

"Hello sir." The four-year-old respected the soldiers in town almost as much as he idolized pirates.

"You're-er-hello, Admiral." Elizabeth wiped her flour-covered hands on her dress. "Would you care to join us for breakfast?"

Norrington nodded. "If it isn't too much of a bother." He smiled slightly, thrusting the flowers outward. She really had hoped he'd politely refuse. "I'd like to apologize, Elizabeth. I acted very much like an ass."

Apparently the admiral was full of surprises today. "Yes, you did," she agreed, walking to the door and taking the bouquet. "I do accept your apology, however. Come in."

Norrington stepped inside as Elizabeth placed the bouquet on the table. William stared up at their visitor. "Have you ever seen a pirate, sir?"

Slightly taken aback, Norrington nodded. "My job is to capture pirates."

"Are they bad?"

"Generally."

William looked crestfallen. "Oh."

"What's the matter?"

"I thought Cap'n Sparrow was good."

Norrington frowned slightly, looking over at Elizabeth. She seemed incredibly focused on making breakfast. "Not really. Pirates are selfish people, William. They take what they can and hurt others."

"He seems good."

Elizabeth nearly panicked. Her heart started to race and then seemed to stop.

"When did you meet Mister Sparrow?" Norrington had a terrible note to his voice of interrogation.

"He's upstairs." William smiled. "Cap'n Sparrow changed John's nappy last night."

Norrington chuckled at the thought of a pirate changing a baby's soiled nappy. "You have quite the imagination, William."

Elizabeth's heart seemed to start beating again as she let out a breath that she'd been subconsciously holding. "William…can you wash up for breakfast?"

The lad nodded before running to a basin of water in the kitchen. He washed his hands quickly before sitting down at the table, waiting expectantly. This was part of his routine.

"Admiral Norrington, can you please take a seat?" Elizabeth flipped a pancake over. "Breakfast will be cooked in just a minute."

Norrington nodded, picking John carefully up. He carried the child to the table, holding him as though he were a can full of rubbish with a particularly weak bottom about to burst. Just as he was about to set John in his high chair, the toddler threw up all over Norrington's carefully cleaned blue coat.

"Mama, John's sick," William pointed out helpfully, squirming in his seat as Elizabeth flipped one finished flapjack onto a plate.

Elizabeth turned slightly, her eyes widening. Norrington looked absolutely appalled at what had just happened. His hands were frozen in place and John was starting to cry. It was a compliment to the Admiral that he hadn't dropped John, but he certainly looked ready to. "Oh dear." She hurried over to Norrington's side and took the rather messy John from his hands. The child was startlingly warm in her arms. She'd been so preoccupied earlier she hadn't noticed. "I'm terribly sorry, Admiral, but-"

"Do you have a rag?" His voice was low. Admiral Norrington took a lot of pride in his appearance now that he was no longer living on Tortuga and the chunky contents of John's stomach did not complement his choice in colors.

Elizabeth nodded. "Just a moment." John was crying loudly, drowning out all other sounds inside the house. She grabbed a towel from a drawer and tossed it to Norrington before grabbing another to clean her ill son. John wailed even louder when she wiped his face clean. He'd never been a fan of cleaning that particular part of his body up.

She tossed the dirty rag into the sink and cradled John next to her, walking over to Norrington's side as she gently rocked John back and forth, trying to console him. This task had been daunting when William was a baby, but she'd dealt with so many illnesses it only seemed slightly annoying. "Can I help you clean up?"

"No." Norrington brushed some of the chunks off his sleeve. "I…well, I have quite a lot of business to attend to, Elizabeth. I ought to be going."

"I am sorry, James. It seems that John's come down with something."

"Don't worry about it." He stood, handing her the soiled rag. "I do hope he feels better soon and I am sorry about how blunt I was this morning."

Elizabeth gently kissed John's forehead. The child was starting to fall asleep. "I hope your day turns out better."

He smiled very slightly and bowed. "Good day, Missus Turner."

"Good day, Admiral." He left and Elizabeth balanced John on her hip so that she could finish cooking breakfast.

* * *

_howlongmustiwait_: I suppose you'll just have to wait and see what he meant by that, eh? I only hope it won't ultimately be a disappointment...then again, I've only a vague idea where this is ultimately heading. I love his eyes the best. I like to stare at them. Except for I don't stare at the posters in my front room. I can't. They creep me out. That's what I get for writing about Jack for nearly three years, though... And...I agree with you about the certain death thing. But we'll see what happens.  
_Daisy_: Yeah...I did make that passage a bit difficult, what with confusing antecedents and all. I've fixed it so that it is clearly the water in the pot that splashes her, rather than the pot itself. Though, that is almost hilarious to picture...  
Aye...it is a bit far-fetched that Jack would ever fall in love with anyone, much less Elizabeth, but him _falling_ for her suits my ultimate goal. Don't worry. She isn't going to be whisked away to the _Black Pearl_ to live the rest of her days with a pirate that loves her. It's a tragedy. You can probably guess where it's going to end up, ultimately. A particular line of Rhett's comes to mind, but I'm not going to say it here because it will likely be in the next chapter. The idea of Jack falling in love with any one woman is ridiculous, I agree. I just wanted to write a romance an' there has to be some feelings on both sides or its just sad...  
I hope you passed said icky test thingy. I'm sick of icky tests. Gotta take one for religion tomorrow. Have one in Grammar next week. Don't want to think about the French one I got back. Bleh. Whatever you do, don't read "The Waste Land." It's an evil poem. Thank you for the review. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen: The Intruders

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to write this.

_Author's Note (10/14/06)_: Fifty days until Pirates comes out on DVD. Not that I've been counting down or anything… I feel like I'm trapped in a surreal world. But enough about me. Here's the new chapter, I hope you enjoy an' leave a review. I also hope to get ahead again, but I doubt that's going to happen. Can't concentrate.

**Chapter Thirteen: The Intruders**

"So you're not going to eat then, is that it?" Elizabeth asked exasperatedly as she stepped up the final chair carrying John. Jack was sitting on the floor, absorbed in a book. "There are pancakes on the table just calling your name."

"I'm not hungry righ' now, luv. Thanks for the offer, though."

"Is the book really that interesting?"

"Aye. Tha' John Donne has some interestin' poetry." Jack glanced up briefly and smiled. "Surprised ye have something with so much depth t' it."

She rolled her eyes. "I was the one interested in poetry, Jack. Will never picked that book up."

"I hardly find tha' surprising." Jack smiled. "He 'as interesting conceits. Stretches it a bi', I think, bu' it seems t' work." He slowly closed the book of poetry. "So John spewed all o'er the Admiral, eh?"

Elizabeth smiled and nodded, gently rocking John back and forth. "Yes. He's a bit ill."

"Either tha' or he recognizes rubbish when 'e sees it." He stood, motioning for John. "I'm no' so sure leaving William all by his onesies righ' now is the best idea, luv."

"And I'm sure he'd prefer your company to mine."

"Aye, bu' you might catch whatever it is John has. Tha' wouldn' be any good." He stepped closer.

"You might also."

"Luv, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Whatever bug it is tha' he has, I won' catch it."

She frowned slightly and then carefully handed John over to Jack. The child whimpered softly before quickly adjusting to being in the pirate's arms. He yawned and fell asleep. "I'll watch over him, luv. Don' worry."

Elizabeth watched her son for a moment before nodding. "Very well, then. I'll go see to William."

"Good." Jack smiled slightly. "The lad needs 'is mum right now, trust me. Four year olds understand quite a lot more than we give 'em credit."

"And how would you know this?"

"I used t' be a four year old." Jack chuckled, walking towards a basin of water to gently wash John's head. There really was no other way to get a fever down. "I still remember wha' it was like."

"That's a bit curious."

"Well, you'd remember too if you were me." He grabbed a rag and put it in the tepid water. After a moment, he pulled it out and squeezed off the excess water before gently putting it on John's forehead.

Elizabeth waited for a few moments, clearly expecting Jack to explain. When he didn't, she frowned at him. "You're a very aggravating person, Jack Sparrow."

"I know." John stirred in his arms. "I often leave me audiences hanging. Better than them leaving me in a more literal position."

She sighed softly, coming to as William started making noises downstairs. It just wasn't fair. She wanted to spend her time with Jack, and be selfish again, but now she had to be a good mother that thought only of her children and never of herself. "Call me if he gets worse."

"I will," Jack promised solemnly. "Now, go see t' yer oldest bundle of joy, luv."

Elizabeth sighed softly and nodded. She went down the stairs without another word.

William was sitting on the couch with a book in his lap. He'd heard the story so many times that he could tell it to Elizabeth without looking at the book, but he still enjoyed hearing Elizabeth read it to him. "Mama!"

"Hello, William." Elizabeth smiled and took a seat next to him on the couch. "Would you like me to read you that?"

The boy nodded excitedly, taking the book as he scooted over onto her lap. "Please, Mama? Grandfather didn't read it right. His stories were boooooring."

Elizabeth kissed the top of his head. "Well, Grandfather hasn't been around children for quite some time, love. He hasn't had a need to impress a four-year-old."

"I'm almos' five."

Elizabeth laughed. "Not for another eight months, William. John is going to be two before you're five."

"I'm still almos' five."

She ruffled his hair gently. "Yes, you are."

"If I were five, could I go on Cap'n Sparrow's ship as a pirate?"

She looked at him curiously. "I don't know."

"He said I wasn't old enough." William sighed softly. "I already askded him if I could go with him."

"Well, maybe when you're five." She kissed his cheek. "I wouldn't worry about it. I think that Captain Sparrow will be staying for quite some time."

"Do you think he'll stay for my birfday?"

"I hope so." She smiled slightly. "I certainly hope so." She flipped the book open. "Should you start reading or should I?"

"You, Mama. You read it much more better."

"Better, William, better." She smiled and gently traced over the engraving on the first page. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl who had two terribly wicked stepsisters and a stepmother who dominated her father. She missed her mother very much, but-"

There was a loud knock at the door. Before Elizabeth even had the chance to move, the door burst open and Nancy Shelby and Lucy Harris stepped inside. "Where is he?" Lucy demanded.

"Where is who?" Elizabeth asked, setting William down on the couch. "Can you read it to yourself for a bit, love? Mama has visitors."

"Yes, Mama." William seemed somewhat amused at the look on Lucy's face.

"That pirate, John Sparrow." Lucy looked around the entire room.

"Jack Sparrow," Nancy supplied helpfully.

"What?"

"Jack Sparrow. We know he's here. Where is he?"

"Captain Sparrow hasn't been in Port Royal for five years, Missus Harris."

Lucy grunted. "Nancy says Jack Sparrow had her do your laundry."

"Yes. Jack Sparrow brought over your dress and I cleaned it."

"Why would he come here?" she asked with a laugh. She didn't want to share her visitor with anyone else.

"To console you?" Lucy shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Where is he?"

"I assure you, Captain Sparrow hasn't ever been to my home."

"Yes he has. He's upstairs." William looked up from his book. "He's a good storyteller."

"See, I tole you Lucy!" Nancy's voice was practically squealing. "Let's go find him!"

Lucy smiled and nodded. "Did the lad say upstairs?"

"Yes, yes he did." Nancy pulled on Lucy's arm. "Come along. He's not down here."

Lucy nodded and the pair hurried up the stairs. Elizabeth was a step behind them. If Nancy Shelby and Lucy Harris saw her visitor, there was no doubt that the rest of Port Royal would know about it before evening fell. Surprisingly, however, when they got upstairs all they could see was a made bed in one room and John sleeping on the straw mattress in the other.

"William has quite the vivid imagination," Elizabeth said, a little stunned herself by the fact that it appeared as though there had never been another person up here since William's death. There was no trace of Jack at all.

"He's not here, Nancy," Lucy said disgustedly. "I thought you told me you'd seen Jack Sparrow!"

"I did see him," Nancy insisted. "'E was a sight for sore eyes, as well. Handsome to boot. Swear 'e 'asn' changed a bit. Looked just like the time I saw him nearly hung."

"We all saw that." Lucy frowned at her companion. "Have you been drinking again?"

"No." Nancy seemed upset. "I haven't."

"Had a little too much snuff?"

"No!"

Their raised voices woke John. He started bawling. Frowning, Elizabeth went to the other room and picked up John, rocking him back and forth. There wasn't the slightest clue that Jack had been in this room, either. "Do you mind?" she asked sharply as she stepped back to the other room.

Nancy and Lucy were far too engrossed in their argument to notice. "This is the last time I believe you, Nancy Shelby! You never check your facts first!"

"How else do you account for the way the lass is handling this?" Nancy seemed fairly close to tears. "Those two loved one another. There's no way she could be normal again so soon."

"Them two were children." Lucy frowned. "You know wha' it's like. Your child's pet dies so you gets him a replacement. Elizabeth must've gotten a replacement. 'Twould explain why I saw the Admiral leaving here early this mornin'."

"Excuse me!" Elizabeth practically yelled. Both bickering biddies turned and looked at her. "I have not replaced my husband with Admiral Norrington. I have two young children to take care of. The time for weeping during the day is gone."

They both regarded her skeptically. "Whatever you say, Missus Turner," Nancy said with a huff. "I won' be surprised to hear about a wedding."

"That would be highly improper with my husband hardly in the grave, don't you agree?" Elizabeth's eyes were fierce. John started howling. "Please leave. John has come down with something. I have no intention of doing anything improper. Captain Jack Sparrow means nothing to me and I mean nothing to him. He would _never_ come for me." She scoffed, tears running down her cheeks. She wasn't sure if what she was saying was true or not. Why had Jack come? And how long was he intending to stay? "Please leave. I've been trying to pull my shambled life together and it's just been never ending interruptions from gossiping neighbors who just can't believe a woman such as myself doesn't have a thousand lovers. I loved my husband. He's gone now. And I'm alone." Her voice caught and she turned away. "I don't even know how I'm going to survive until next week. How can I concern myself about catching a husband or doing something highly immoral? My children need a mother, not a whore."

"Sorry," Lucy muttered under her breath. That was followed by footsteps down the stairs and then a shutting door.

Alone, Elizabeth let a few more tears fall and then focused on John, gently rocking him back to sleep. She heard another pair of footsteps heading downstairs as she sat in a wooden rocking chair in the boys' room, rhythmically going back and forth. As John stopped crying, she could hear faint snatches of Jack's voice and laughs from William. The toddler fell asleep after five or so minutes of gentle rocking and soft singing. Once he was snoring, she took him back to the straw mattress and set him down, covering up his warm limbs.

That accomplished, she brushed a strand of errant hair behind her ear and went downstairs. Jack was very obviously in the midst of a game of pirates and redcoats with William. He'd been "tied" in place by imaginary cords as William tried to decide what to do with his prisoner and was sitting perfectly still. "Per'aps I'll hang you, redcoat, same as ye'd do ter me," William said thoughtfully, holding a stick to represent a sword as he walked in circles around Jack.

"Now, that wouldn't do, sir," Jack said with a gulp, imitating a stuffy soldier surprisingly well. "I could be of assistance in other matters, I'm quite sure."

"Why would I want someone as terribly boooring as you on me ship, eh?" He glared at Jack, though he couldn't help but smile.

"I'm not always boring!" Jack protested, accidentally moving his hand. "Sorry," he apologized as he put his hand back where it belonged. "Only generally. One 'as t' be boring to wear these ridiculous red costumes."

"Well…" William considered that and then nodded. "I suppose tha's true. Ye can be on me crew."

"I think you mean in, love," Elizabeth corrected. "You're in a crew, not on a crew." She smiled and then looked at Jack. "Where were you?"

"On the roof." He grinned. "Figured it would jus' be awkward if you had t' introduce me." He looked at William. "I suppose ye'll jus' have to stab me, pirate. I want a word wiv yer mum."

William frowned and groaned. "Fine." He poked Jack with the stick. Jack then rather dramatically died, making all sorts of interesting noises before he seemed to stop breathing. "Oh no! I killed him!"

Elizabeth stifled a laugh. "I'm sure he's just pretending, William."

Moments later, Jack sat straight up and laughed. "Aye. A stick couldn' do me in, mate."

"I'm not entirely sure I want you to teach my son about killing people at such an early age," Elizabeth remarked with a frown.

"Sorry," Jack apologized, though he didn't look apologetic. "It was better than readin' Cinderella. Never 'ave been a fan of the impossibly happy ending."

"Oh." She smiled slightly. "What is it that you want to discuss?"

"I have to leave, Elizabeth."

* * *

_Alexa: _No worries. I understand how things get in the way. Glad to hear from you again, though.  
_Howlongmustiwait_: You're a J/E shipper? I never would've guessed that! (Just kidding. That's great that you're so set on them being together.) And I agree. A captain has nothing on a mother. Of course, back then, men jus' din' see it that way, eh? I like your rambling. I like reading your rambling. I like reading rambling in general. I like rambling myself. So don't apologize for it. And...I agree. There's more depth to Jack's character than meets the eye. Just hope you don't pelt me with stones for the cliffhanger end of this chapter. And I hope to hear from you again.  
_Daisy:_ I knew I shouldn't have coughed all over my computer keys... I'm sorry I got you sick. More fun to blame me, eh? I suppose I can give you some hours of my sleep. I don't really need it all. The only really major thing on my plate right now is my oral exams for French an' a paper about Eliot's "The Waste Land." That's the oddest poem I've ever read. Oh...and a test in Grammar on Thursday. I need to go over diagramming sentences a bit more. Din' do as well as I'd hoped on the last test.   
Will's death is only tragic to those who actually care for his character. I doubt most of those people are still reading this. I should probably switch the genre from tragedy/romance to romance/tragedy, but that would take effort. Maybe I'll do it. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill Jack again. I usually only resort to that if I've no other ideas, and I've other ideas, so he isn't going to be meeting his maker again. Norrington did seem a bit off, I agree. But, to suit the purposes of where this is headed, I'm not going to change it. Thank you for your review. Hope you feel better soon and that school doesn't drown you. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen: The Farewell

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be doing this, mate.

_Author's Note (10/17/06)_: I meant to put this up yesterday, but was unable to use the internet all afternoon and evening. Plus I started reading _The End_. And I finished it. It's a good book, but you should only read it if you've read the rest of _A Series of Unfortunate Events_ or you'll be confused. It's like trying to bite into the middle of an onion while assuming the outside doesn't exist. It doesn't work. I'm sorry if this isn't what you're expecting, but there will be at least one more chapter. Maybe two. Or even three. Or more. I don't know how far I want to go with this. Feedback would be appreciated.

**Chapter Fourteen: The Farewell**

Elizabeth looked at Jack much like a pig does before it is slaughtered by a farmer. "What?"

"I have to leave, luv." Jack slowly stood up and came next to her. "I can't stay." He gently touched her hand. "Today 'as given me more than ample evidence tha' I need to go."

"Surely you don't seriously think you'll be discovered!"

"I do. An' don' call me Shirley." He grinned slightly, a slightly saddened look in his dark brown eyes.

In spite of herself, Elizabeth smiled. It reached into her light brown eyes. "No one believes those two, Jack."

"Aye, bu' the Admiral already has reason t' suspect enough." He gently kissed her. "Besides, you've got your smile back. That's the only reason I came."

"I do have my smile back," she slowly agreed. "But it's still quite rare. If you were to stay, I could smile more often."

"I don't stay any longer than this wiv women."

She looked as though she'd been stricken. "Is that all I am to you? Another woman?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. You are very special, Elizabeth, an' I will never lump you wiv the various strumpets I've come in contact with in the past." He kissed her gently again. "I just have to go. The _Pearl_ is waiting for me an' she won' wait much longer if I don' leave now. They're to assume tha' the Admiral got me if I don' meet up wiv 'em in two days. With current wind conditions, I'll be lucky t' get there in time."

"So you're just leaving?"

"Tha' pretty much sums it up, aye. Generally takes three days t' get to Tortuga." He smirked, gently caressing her cheek. "It's been fun."

"What about me?"

He seemed almost annoyed. "Elizabeth, I've given you plenty of money. You'll want for nothing. There's more upstairs if ye need it, underneath the mattress. You'll ne'er have t' marry again unless you want. Can send your boys to London, if ye want. The world is yours for the taking."

She closed her eyes. "What is the world without you?"

"The world will always 'ave me." He grinned conceitedly. "I've no intention of dying anytime soon."

"But…_I_ need you, Jack. I lo-"

He put his finger to her lips. "Elizabeth, we 'ad a fun time together, I'll admit that. I'll always think back on it fondly. Bu' le's not make a fool of ourselves, shall we? You don' love me."

"Yes I do," she insisted, suddenly dangerously close to tears. "Don't leave."

"I have to." He smiled sadly. "An' you can't come with. I'm not a stand-in for Will, Elizabeth, I though' we already established that. I'm not father material an' my ship is no place for your boys. We need t' be reasonable, here. I can never be what you deserve. I can't stay here." He looked regretful. "I forfeited the opportunity t' live in a quiet neighborhood wiv a family long ago. There'll be no changing that. Especially not in Port Royal. I'm not a marrying man. I'm too old an' too set in me ways."

"So you'll just abandon me?"

"Abandon is a harsh word," Jack remarked with a frown. "I'll be back periodically, t' check up on you an' the boys. Lift your spirits. But I 'ave to go _now_. If I stay, there will be no chance to leave again."

"How can you know that?"

"Elizabeth, remember your conversation this morning? Bloody Norrington is going to be a frequent visitor, even if you ultimately reject him. I don' want to be here when he tries to romance you. Not only is it upsetting, it's potentially hazardous t' me health."

She could understand that, but all her heart wanted was for him to ask her to run away with him. She would leave in a heartbeat, provided John and William were able to come with. "How often will you be back?" Her voice was strained as she tried to assimilate the fact that he wasn't going to give her a happy ending.

"I don' know. Whenever the wind brings me this way." He looked down for a moment. "I wish I could give ye definites, bu' I'd hate to not keep a promise."

"Jack…" Tears finally fell from Elizabeth's eyes. "I…it's only been…you're leaving?"

"Yes." He brushed her tears away. "Don' cry over me, luv. I'm just a pirate." He smirked slightly, a sad look shining in his dark eyes despite his best efforts. "I'll be back." He leaned down and kissed her passionately. "I promise. I will be back." Then he caressed her cheek one last time. "Goodbye, William," he said somewhat cheerfully to the lad watching the scene carefully. "Be a good help to your mum." He waved and then disappeared through the open door, shutting it behind him.

Elizabeth stared at the door for a very long while, putting a hand to her head. It had happened so quickly. Maybe it had all just been a dream. A ridiculous dream. She felt stupid for having thought that he would ever be anything more than he was. Captain Jack Sparrow would never become her children's father. He had no obligation to do so. He didn't even have to come back. But he did. At least she knew he cared, even if he'd lied about falling for her. She wanted to run after him, to make him come back, but her legs wouldn't move. All she could do was look.

"Mama?" William asked, breaking her concentration. "Is he really going to come back?"

"I think so." A few tears spilled silently down her cheeks. "He hasn't broken a promise to me yet."

"Oh." He nodded slightly and grabbed his book. "Can we finish Cinderella?"

Elizabeth slowly shook her head. "No. I'd rather tell you a story about Captain Sparrow."

"About Nigereria?"

"No." She smiled and slowly walked to where he was sitting. Her feet felt like the ballast of a ship.

"Nassau?"

"No. One you haven't heard." She sat down near him.

"What's this one about?"

"How I met him." She picked him up and placed him on her lap. "It was a long time ago, before you were born. Before your father and I even started contemplating marriage, even. I was at Admiral Norrington's promotion party, wearing a dress with a corset."

"What's a corset?"

"It's a terribly evil piece of clothing that makes it so you can't breathe and look skinnier than you really are."

"Oh." William took her hand. "What happened next?"

"I was standing near the cliffs, talking to the Admiral, when I fainted. I fell off the cliff and started plummeting to the ocean. I fell into the water and would've drowned…but Captain Sparrow jumped in and saved me. He cut off my dreadful corset and saved my life."

"That was nice of him."

"I know." She smiled softly. "I knew he would be important when I first saw him, even though I was frightened. He saved my life more than once."

William looked at her expectantly when she stopped speaking. "Is there more?"

"There will be when you're a bit older." She laughed at the crestfallen look on his face. "I'm just joshing, William. We owe a lot to Captain Jack Sparrow. He saved your father's life a lot, too. You must never be mad that he left."

"Aren't you?"

"I don't think so. Just…sad." She sighed softly. "I will miss him."

"Me too." William glanced over at the door. "What did he play with you, Mama? He said that you two liked to play."

She blushed slightly. "Now _that_ has to wait until you're much older, William."

"Awww." He frowned. "I want to know now. I'm big and grown up. Captain Sparrow said so. I have to help you."

"You're already a big help, love." She gently kissed his forehead. "What would you like to eat before your brother wakes up?"

"Can I have something with cheese?"

She nodded. "Come on, then. I've a feeling John will be waking up cranky, soon, and I'll have to spend most of my time with him. He's sick."

"I understand, Mama. That's why Captain Jack was here. He was spending time with you because you were sick. But now you're better."

She smiled at that. It was a good explanation as to what he'd done. She'd been sick with self-pity and apathy and now she was whole again. It was somewhat heartening to know that he'd waited an extra day to make sure she didn't relapse before leaving. "Oh. Sounds like you two had quite the conversation before your game."

"We did." He hopped off her lap. "Can I help?"

"Of course." She stood and took his hand and took him to the kitchen. Tears would come later, now she was too busy thinking of others.

* * *

_Daisy_: Erm...I do recognize that there are other forms of illness in children. I just wanted Norrington to get thrown up on because he throws up so much in _Dead Man's Chest _and it's absolutely disgusting. Plus, John isn't deathly ill. He was merely suffering my own illness. Not that it matters. I talked to Adelle on the phone yesterday. She's apparently got a cold and gave it to my Mom. I miss Adelle. And I'm really tired and don't know why. But that's not important. He did up and say it because he's a coward. Yep. Like someone I know (that isn't you, no worries) and have partly based this aspect of Jack on. I hope you feel better soon. Thank you for the review.  
_howlongmustiwait_: Have I killed you yet? I've been trying to...well, not really. I hope I didn't upset you too much with this ending. Not that it's really an ending, as I've got another chapter mostly written already. I am sorry about the long wait. Really, I am. And I'm glad you enjoyed Jack playing pirates...I thought it was cute. Something I do with my niece, actually. I'm always the bad guy. Kids prefer it that way. I'm glad you're enjoying it so much and hope you don't pelt me with stones... 


	15. Chapter Fifteen: The Proposal

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be writing this.

_Author's Note (10/19/06)_:  
My most loyal reviewers,  
I am at your mercy. I've no idea what it is that I want to do with this particular story. Well, perhaps I should clarify that a bit. I know what I want to do in the near future, but I can't decide how I want to do it. As a result, I've decided I'm going to leave it in your hands. I ask you, humbly, if you'll please mention in your review which option(s) you would prefer. They are: 1. I continue doing what I've been doing and continue it in this story. 2. I start a new story picking up where this chapter leaves us. 3. I start a new story focusing on Jack rather than Elizabeth where the story leaves off. 4. I start a new story that is Jack's perspective on all this, which would be fun but mostly repetitious. 5. I switch off between Jack and Elizabeth in a new story. 6. I stop writing entirely and go live in the ice caves. 7. I never tell you what the title ultimately signifies. Instead, I abandon this quasi-soap opera and go back to writing 'Ello Beastie with its unanachronistic goodness and loads of research. 8. One of you picks up where I leave off.  
Almost all of these options seem viable to me and I can get enthused about any of them (or a combination). As a result, whatever gets the most "votes" or recommendations is what I will do.

**Chapter Fifteen: The Proposal**

It seemed to be the task that would never end. Elizabeth had washed the little clothes lying on the floor so many times they were starting to wear thin, yet they were absolutely filthy again. It didn't seem to matter what she tried to do. If she kept William and John inside, they got into something messy that didn't seem messy until they put their small hands on it. If she sent them outside, they came back with all sorts of grass stains and mud all over their clothes. John especially would come back filthy. Since he hadn't yet reached the age of four, he still wore plain white dresses rather than pants. Once he turned four, he would be able to dress like a young man, but up until then, both boys and girls wore the same outfit. It made it rather difficult to tell between baby boys and girls, so one had to be very careful around the mother to avoid calling the child something it wasn't.

Elizabeth knew that she'd have to replace the clothes before too much longer. John seemed unable to stop growing. He'd lost a lot of his baby fat over the past four months and now seemed less like an infant and more like his brother. John looked a lot more like Will than he resembled Elizabeth. Sometimes, in the quiet of her own room, she wondered if she'd really had any part in their conception at all. The only thing John had inherited from her was his thin figure. William was much broader, like his father, and would likely become a strong young man in several years. It hardly seemed fair. Then again, nothing seemed fair. She'd been abandoned by two men she loved. Jack's departure hurt worse. He'd left willingly and hurriedly at the first sign of anything serious. Typical pirate.

The only explanation she could come up with for his abrupt departure was that he was afraid of what might happen. She did see the reasoning against her going with him aboard the _Pearl_, as she wasn't particularly keen on her children being injured, but it still seemed like a weak excuse. She would have gladly followed him anywhere. He had saved her from her grief and taught her to love again and now he was gone.

Sighing, she carried the small clothes carefully down the stairs, avoiding walking too heavily so as to not wake John, and set them inside the washtub. Laundry was her least favorite chore. It never stopped, even if she wanted to take a break and spend a day just playing with her rambunctious sons or reading or visiting or anything. It would wait for her, weighing heavily on her mind like dirty dishes until she could no longer bear the thought of stained and smelly clothes. It caused far more guilt than any other chore and wasn't as rewarding as cleaning dishes or dusting the rug. At least when she cleaned the rug she could work off her excess anger by hitting it with all her might with a broom.

Life wasn't fair. Love wasn't fair. And she was getting sick of such a provincial life. Jack had given her a taste of freedom again and she found a part of her she'd thought long dead yearning for it. When John and William were asleep, she had to fight the urge to head to the nearest tavern to try and overhear news of that most infamous pirate captain. She was desperate to see him again and her dreams were haunted by him, though she hated admitting that to herself. It was best not to think of anything because when she thought about the fact that he was gone, she would cry. She hated crying, especially when she was alone because it emphasized the fact that she was alone. There was no one to hold her when she cried, no one to massage her aching back or to try to fix a meal when she felt ill. Rather than waste all that energy, she stopped crying after the first month or two. She had two very active boys to watch over and hadn't been feeling well enough to do what she needed to do, let alone what her heart wanted.

She was very glad that the captain had left her money, especially when she discovered what he'd left inside the book of poetry he'd been looking at that had been given to her by her father at a young age. He'd slipped numerous doubloons into the pages and she was now far wealthier than she'd been while living with her father. At least she didn't have to worry about taking in boarders or something to augment her income to provide for her children. She was very careful to spend it sparingly, however. In the off chance someone noticed she was wealthy, she prayed they would just assume she'd gotten an inheritance from her father.

As she started to scrub one of her shifts, there was a knock at the door. William, who was desperately trying to write the alphabet as his mother had requested, slowly stood and went to the door. "Hello Admiral," he greeted the visitor warmly.

"Hello, William." Norrington smiled slightly. "Is your mother here?"

"Of course." William smiled and motioned the man inside. "Mama, there's a visitor."

"I see that," Elizabeth remarked with a slight smile as she let the shift fall into the water and stood. "What brings you here at this time of day, James?"

"Well, I had an important meeting with your father ended far earlier than I was expecting. I don't even have paper work to fill out for the rest of the afternoon."

"That's very fortunate." She motioned him forward. "Come in, James. I'm just doing the laundry for this week."

"Is this a bad time?"

She laughed softly. "Hardly. I like any excuse to not do laundry." She rubbed her hands on her apron as he took a seat in the armchair. William sat down on the floor and started trying to finish the alphabet once more, for Elizabeth had promised to take him and John to the beach if he did. The boys loved to play near the water.

"That is something Missus Leary complains about often," Norrington remarked with a slight smile. "She doesn't mind keeping house for me, but I'll never forget the tongue-lashing I received after accidentally staining one of my cuffs. Worse than anything I received from my mother, actually."

Elizabeth laughed softly and nodded. "I'm sure it was quite a change for her when you came back absolutely filthy. Rather hard to change one's cleaning habits to accommodate a change in personality."

"She did threaten to leave several times. I had to offer her more compensation." Norrington smiled fully. "I am glad she stuck with me. Taught me how to be a proper gentleman again."

"Personally, I find that a trifle upsetting," she remarked. "I preferred the James Norrington who wasn't afraid to be dirty. Besides, you look quite a lot more handsome without your wig."

"Lamentably, it's something I have to wear," Norrington said with a sigh, reaching up to touch the white wig. "Part of the commission, and all."

"I think you should take it off every time you come to my home." She was rather surprised when he did as she asked, setting it carefully down on the arm of the chair. She studied him for a moment and smiled. "Yes…that's much better. Now I don't feel as though I'm talking to a statue."

"You feel as though you're talking to a statue?" he asked quizzically.

"Sometimes," she admitted. "I like to see the real you, James, not the you that Port Royal sees. If I had seen the real you…well, things might have turned out differently years ago."

He regarded her carefully for several moments. "If I'd known…" He sighed softly. "It's hard to retain one's identity while in the service of the Crown, Elizabeth. I had men that needed to follow my orders and--"

"I understand, James, really, I do." She smiled. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm just saying if you hope to attract a wife, you'll have to be your charming self instead of the statue you've become again."

He nodded and then slowly stood, tentatively walking to where she was still standing. "Elizabeth…I am sorry if I've seemed somewhat distant around you, or have appeared to be anyone other than myself."

She smiled ruefully. "Why do I get the impression you're about to express your undying love?"

He laughed softly. "You know me far better than any other woman."

"James, we've been over this before. I can't marry you. I haven't even been a widow for a year. The fact that I've got a frequent male visitor is the source of much gossip."

"I know. It's a highly improper arrangement. I find myself unable to stop, however, for the sake of decorum."

She sighed. "There will be enough rumors in a few months. If we were to be engaged so soon, James, I would never be able to go outside again."

He gently took her hand. "Have you considered it?"

"Well, of course I have. My children need a father."

"Then why will you not consent? Who cares what they say? They all can rot in hell for all I care."

"You ought not to say such things, James."

"I protect their lives, Elizabeth. It doesn't mean I have to like them."

She sighed softly and looked away. "I can't marry you."

"I'm not asking for you to marry me immediately, Elizabeth. I understand that you're still grieving for Will and that it is too soon to be making such a bold move. Will was a fine man and a great hero. It just isn't good for you to be alone."

"I know." She suddenly had tears in her eyes.

"I _want_ to help you."

She looked back at him. "I want you to help me. I just…" She sighed. "It wouldn't do, James, for me to marry you so soon after the funeral. Especially since I'm wi-"

He put his hand up. "I have to go away to New York. Apparently some of the officials there aren't exactly up to snuff and need a few lessons about catching pirates and keeping the peace. I'll be gone for nearly a year."

She stared at him, slightly confused at his previous comment. "And?"

"I want to marry you when I return."

She looked at him curiously, shaking her head slightly. "I'm flattered, James, really. But once again, I have to respectfully decline."

"I'm not going to take that as an answer." He smiled slightly. "I know I'm not Will, Elizabeth, nor do I plan to become him. But I love you and I admire your children. I want to marry you." He leaned forward and tentatively kissed her. After the first few awkward seconds, Elizabeth found herself enjoying it. It had been so long since she'd had anything but slobbery and sloppy kisses. He pulled back and gazed intently into her eyes. "I know I'm not what you're looking for, exactly, but I do want to make you happy and will watch over your children as though they are my own. Please marry me."

"I will." She smiled and gently touched his cheek. "When you return."

* * *

_Jess:_ Thank you for leaving a review! I shall shortly be sending you an e-mail about this update, I promise. Which doesn't make much sense for you, since you've just read the chapter and have already received said e-mail... Either way, I'd like to hear more from you.  
_howlongmustiwait_: Remember, it is labeled as a romance/tragedy, so I really have room to do whatever I please. Muahahaha. I really ought to practice my maniacal laugh... I can't wait to hear your two cents (or a dissertation) on what I should do next!


	16. Chapter Sixteen: The Key

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be writing this with these characters.

_Author's Note (10/21/06)_: Time seems to be slipping away at an alarming rate recently. At least, on my side of the computer. No worries, though. I've decided to go for option number 1, to just keep continuing it the way its going. I'd appreciate reviews for this chapter, even though I'm suddenly not getting e-mails about them…

**Chapter Sixteen: The Key**

"William, love, have you seen the key to the spare room?" Elizabeth was hunched over a desk, looking through a drawer carefully to try and find the only way into the room full of spider webs and dangerous weapons.

"No." Her son looked to John. "Have you seen it, John?"

"No key," the two year old announced soberly. "Pi-yacht an aked."

"Sorry, we haven't seen it. Why do you need it?"

"I need to get in there. No sense in wasting money for something new when one already owns one…" She muttered a few things under her breath as she brushed around inside the drawer trying to see if she'd merely overlooked it.

"You're not goin' t' find it," a man's voice announced soberly. "It hasn't been there for eight months, two weeks, an' five days, if memory serves."

"Ack!" John exclaimed excitedly. "Pi-yacht an!"

"Cap'n Sparrow!" William's eyes were large.

Elizabeth felt her heart catch in her ribcage. Jack was back. She'd almost convinced herself he wasn't ever coming back. There was no reason for him to. He was a successful pirate that could go anywhere in the world. She slowly stood up straight and turned to look at him. "You came back." Her eyes filled with tears.

John and William were attached firmly to each leg. Jack was glancing down at them, laughing. He slowly picked up John. "Ye've gotten quite a lot bigger, mate," he remarked. Then he looked at William. "As have ye. Big five-year-old now, eh?"

"I two!" John provided excitedly.

"I know." The pirate grinned at the child in his arms before looking back at William.

William nodded proudly. "I've been taking care of Mama like you asked me to."

"Good." The pirate captain finally looked at Elizabeth, his eyebrows disappearing under his bandana as he did so. "You've changed _quite_ a lot, too."

"Yes, I have," she murmured.

"Do you need the key?" he asked softly. "I can give it back if ye do."

"I've been trying to find it for the past few months." A few tears spilled over. "Can I just use it? There's something I need to get."

"I can get it for ye." He motioned towards her with one hand, moving it around in a large circle. "I mean…ye look ready to burst."

She laughed slightly. "Well, yes, I do. Rather bad form for you to notice out loud."

"Well…" He just stared at her. "What is it that you need?"

"The cradle." She put her hand on her very large belly. "It's a somewhat urgent request. I've been searching for that key for a long time."

"It's been wiv me all along." He reached up into his hair, pulling one of his braids out from the rest so it was more visible. On the end of it was the key. "Le' me get into there for you."

"Would you?" She smiled slightly. "It's rather hard for me to carry anything anymore. I just keep getting in the way of myself."

"I imagine so." He stared at her for a long moment before gently setting John down and going to the locked door. He unlocked it with some difficulty and coughed as he opened the door. "I can tell ye 'aven' cleaned in there for a while."

"Through no fault of my own." She smiled and put a hand to her aching back. There were so many things she wanted to say to him but she was left without words. So many rehearsed conversations from long and mostly sleepless nights were gone as though they'd never existed.

Jack went into the room and pulled out the dusty cradle. He carried it out of the room and set it down near the door. Once it was out, he locked the door again. "Is there…ah…anything else…I can do?"

Elizabeth smirked slightly, amused to see him so completely ill at ease. "William, can you take John upstairs and play? I'd like a word or two with our guest."

William nodded, taking John's chubby little hand in his. He led the toddler up the stairs to play pirates or something. Since learning how to sort of speak and to walk, John had become a much better playmate.

Elizabeth put up her hand. "Before you say anything else, no."

"No what?"

"This isn't your baby, Jack Sparrow."

"Oh." He looked at her curiously for a moment. "That actually wasn't what I was going t' ask about…bu' I suppose tha's nice to know." There was a hint of incredulity to his voice that she didn't catch.

"Oh." Elizabeth suddenly felt as though she were a child. Why did she think he cared or would be jealous? "I see."

He smiled at her. "How have you been, luv?"

"Other than with child?" She smiled slightly. "Managing. William has been such a help. John tries to help as well. He likes to dust. I now have a brother. Several years too late, I must add, but he's reasonably cute."

"How 'ave _you_ been?"

She looked down. "I hated you for a while."

"I can't say tha' I blame ye." He smiled slightly in response.

"Of course not," she whispered. "Thank you for keeping your promise."

"I'd never intentionally break one." He gently touched her cheek. "I said I'd be back."

She smiled and put her hand over his, cupping it against her face. "I've missed your cooking and cleaning."

"And I've missed our playful banter." He leaned forward, as though expecting a kiss.

Elizabeth quickly changed the topic. "What sort of adventures have you had? I'm sure William and John would love to hear some."

"Actually, things've been relatively quiet. Nothin' terribly exciting. Just your average pillaging and plundering."

"That's a shame. I'm sure you can come up with something terribly exciting to tell him about." She smiled tiredly. Suddenly, she grinned broadly. "The baby's moving!" she announced excitedly, grabbing his hand and moving it down towards her belly. "Must recognize your voice from when you were here before."

"Tha', luv, makes no sense. I was only around for its conception."

"I told you, Jack, you're not the father." She set his hand where the baby was kicking.

"You're a terrible liar." The look on his face was one of curiosity as he felt the baby kick beneath Elizabeth's skirts. It was undoubtedly an odd experience for her, having something alive draining off her energy… "Wow."

She nodded excitedly. "This little one likes to move. Keeps me up at night. John and William were never this acrobatic."

"Well, they had Will as a father." He smiled slightly. "I…if I'd known, Elizabeth, I pro'lly-"

"Wouldn't have bothered coming at all?" She smiled sweetly. "Jack, I'm not stupid. You're afraid of commitment. Why should you care that you helped create another little person?"

"So you admit tha' it is mine?"

She nodded slightly, a sour look on her face. "Unfortunately."

"That sounds terribly bitter."

"Why should it sound any differently? You waltzed into my life for five days and threw it into disarray. And I'm supposed to greet you with a kiss?" She shook her head. "I tried to make it easy for you, Jack, so that you could still live with yourself after abandoning me, but-" Her voice caught.

Jack frowned. "Elizabeth-"

"I don't want to hear your weak excuses." Tears filled her eyes. "I don't want you here. I'm getting married to the Admiral. Get out." She pointed towards the door. "Get out." She hated being so emotional, but she had not expected to see Jack again like this. Of course he had to come when she was the size of a cow with dark circles under her eyes. He could never come when she felt beautiful.

"No." He had a defensive stance about him and a jealous look in his dark eyes. "I won't."

"Get out, Jack Sparrow!" she commanded. Her hand suddenly flew to her belly and she hunched over, her face pale with pain.

"What is it?"

"Jack…" She was silent for a while, merely concentrating on breathing. "Get out."

"No." He frowned at her. "Not while you're in so much pain. I lef' too early las' time an' I've regretted it ever since."

"I doubt that." She straightened. "Leave my house. I'm not in the mood for this now."

"Would ye be in the mood later, then?" Jack smirked slightly, stepping towards her. He took her hand and kissed it sensually. "How about now?"

"This isn't funny, Jack. You're not going to win me over with kisses this time. They don't mean anything." She had a band of sweat near her hairline. "Get out."

"No."

"You stubborn rum-soaked pirate!" she fumed. "Get out of my house or I swear I will shoot you and kill you."

"And set such a good example for your two young an' impressionable children?"

"Yes." Hatred seemed to surge through her, intensifying with each painful contraction. "Get out, Jack, just get out. You can't be here."

Jack shook his head firmly. "No. Now, luv, you're going to tell me wha's wrong."

"You're so dense." She breathed in deeply before slowly exhaling. "Don't just stand there like a stubborn jackass if you're not going to leave. Get some water boiling."

He stared at her, shocked that she'd actually sworn. He'd never heard her say something that rude. "What?"

She glared at him and brushed tiredly at her forehead. "Get some water boiling, Jack. Then take John and William to the Shelby's. I'm having your ruddy baby."

He looked like a child who had lost a dear toy after years of abusing it. Blood drained from his face and his skin paled to the color of a normal man's. "What?"

"You heard me." She frowned. "It's coming early. My midwife is off visiting her sick father. I don't trust Nancy to deliver a baby. I hardly trust her to watch William and John." She winced.

"Who is goin' t' deliver the baby, then?" the captain asked a bit anxiously.

"Just do what I asked you to do, Jack." She started pacing the room. "I'll think of something. And for heaven's sake, don't get caught and hung. You are going to see this child of yours if it kills me."

* * *

_Daisy_: I'm evil like that, updating right when you finally have the chance to read because I totally know when that is... I'm glad that you finally have a chance to slow down. Five hundred miles an hour is terribly dangerous, especially when one sustains that speed for several days. Glad you haven't crashed. And you're probably right about Elizabeth's reaction...I'm going to say that I was portraying her as somewhat numb. Or...that I didn't want Jack to be slapped. That's probably it. I sympathize with him more than her, which is quite sad because just up and leaving was bad of him to do... Maybe I should let you write it instead.  
You're very right. Not very much has happened as a climax, which really means it isn't terribly soap opera-y. They have a climax every five minutes, it seems... That's probably why this is here, rather than in Jack's perspective on another story. I've actually had this chapter done for over a week... But that's supposed to be a secret. Yep. Erm...thanks for the review and I hope your sleep went well.  
_howlongmustiwait_: I've been hinting as to what the token is for the past...well, fifteen chapters. Hinting being the key word, of course. There are just a few words that I've chosen that imply what you just read. Anyway... That's part of my reasoning behind wanting to switch off...or writing the story from Jack's point of view. I think it would be interesting to show you what he's thinking... At the same time, if I were to start switching off now, it would be confusing, which is why I decided to keep it from Elizabeth's perspective. And...they're both too stubborn to do anything, which is why Elizabeth let him leave and why he left. Glad you noticed that. Kudos to you. Glad to see you too upset an' I hope you like this new twist. Your review was very entertaining to read.  
_Jess_: Thanks for your input an' your vote! I've taken what you've said into consideration and it might have an effect on what's going to happen... 


	17. Chapter Seventeen: The Birth

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be writing this. Still. I wish I did. I think it'd make a good soap opera, actually. _Days of Our Lives_ would have some stiff competition…they'd totally dominate the market, providing they got someone reasonably good looking to play Jack… Or Johnny Depp. But that's going a bit too far… Needless to say, I can't wait for 213 days to pass.

_Author's Note (10/24/06)_: Yeah…sorry about the delay. I had to write papers an' stuff. And the internet was in high demand in my apartment. They only give us two internet connections. So I painted and played the Sims and slept and diagrammed sentences… Anyway, here's the new chapter, hope you like it. As a disclaimer, I don't know what childbirth is really like...one can only find out so much by watching Birth Day on the Discovery Health Channel. If I'm wrong, I apologize.

**Chapter Seventeen: The Birth**

Elizabeth looked up as Jack walked in through the front door again. "Did she agree to watch them?"

"I'd assume so," he replied with a shrug. "I din' actually talk to her."

"What?" She seemed ready to verbally attack him.

"I thought ye din' want me to get hung." He stepped towards her. "It's fine. Really. I 'ad William tell her that you weren't feeling well an' had a headache. I think she bought tha' tripe."

Elizabeth looked relieved. "That should keep her from coming over here, I hope."

"Don' you want another woman around?"

"No." She blinked and started to pace again. "I can do this myself."

"Uh…" He was speechless for a moment. "No you can't."

"Jack, please, I've had three children. I know what I have to do."

He looked at her curiously. "Three?"

She nodded. "The third was a stillborn."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not." She winced. "You could care less."

"I really am sorry, luv. Losing a child before it even had a chance t' live…"

"Why would you care? Children complicate things. Must be nice if said children arrive without breathing. The mother undoubtedly falls into your arms at such a time, doesn't she?"

"Enmity doesn' suit you," he remarked almost tiredly.

She looked at him and frowned. "I imagine you've never been to see your children since you learned of their existence. What you can't see can't bother you, eh?"

He was silent as he went to the kitchen and stoked the fire in the fireplace.

"You're despicable," she added caustically. "You left me when I needed you the most and you proved my theory correct. You really only do care for yourself. The only reason you came to see me was to do what you did. You don't actually care for me or my children. Just because you came back doesn't mean anything." She sighed and paused for a moment as she waited for another contraction to pass. "I was so stupid. I thought you would come back and sweep me off my feet and save me from the mundane. But you didn't. You probably didn't even think about me while you were away. I wasted a good deal of time pining for you."

"You obviously got over me if ye agreed to marry the Admiral," Jack countered, staring at the large pot of water he was starting to warm up. There was an odd heavy quality to his voice.

"My children need a father, Jack." She seemed either ready to hit him or to burst out in tears. "He offered me that, even though he knew about the baby. He seems to care for me."

He paused for a moment. "He can't make you happy."

She glared at him in a way designed to intimidate. "Of course he can. He's everything you're not. He's tasted your life and has rejected it and wants to have a family. He can accept responsibility."

Jack pulled a slight face. "He doesn' understand you, Elizabeth. Never will be able t'. You know tha' as well as I do."

"He loves me."

"You don' love him."

She flinched. "How would you know? You've been gone for nearly nine months. A lot can happen."

"Do you really intend t' have this baby by yourself?"

"Do I look like I can handle a ride to town to find another midwife?"

"No. _I_ could."

"Jack, there isn't time." She winced. "All you need to do is catch. Midwives are just there in case something goes wrong."

"What if something does?" He tried to mask the anxiety in his voice.

"Then you only have five children to forget about." She glared at him. "I'm sure that would keep you happy."

Jack looked at her intently for a moment. Childbirth was certainly the most hazardous task a woman had to go through. Infant mortality was high, as was mother mortality. "Wha' do I have to do?"

"Leave."

"Elizabeth, you can't have a baby all by yer onesies."

"I told you. Catch. Clean the baby. Cut the cord. And then leave."

"You really don' want me here?"

"No, I don't."

He looked as though he'd been slapped. "Very well," he said softly. "I'll leave once I know you'll survive the night."

"Don't bother doing me any favors."

"You know, wiv all these caustic remarks, a man might think ye still hated him."

"I do." She paled and leaned against the wall. "Is the water boiling yet?"

He glanced inside the pot and shook his head.

"Well…" She was silent for a moment. "Your demon child is coming. Get ready to catch."

"Shouldn' you lie down?"

She nodded. "Come upstairs."

"You're _such_ a temptress. I'm sorry, luv, bu' I only do that sort of thing if I'm being paid. I am insufferable, af'er all." The sarcasm in his voice was hardly detectable.

She rolled her eyes. "Bad idea to waste perfectly good words on stating the obvious." She let go of the wall and started towards the stairs. Overcome with a wave of dizziness, she staggered a few steps and then started to fall. To her surprise, Jack caught her and then picked her up.

"I don' think you can handle these," he explained, carrying her up to the main bedroom and setting her on the bed.

"Grab a sheet. This birthing business is messy and I don't particularly want to ruin this mattress." She pointed to a cedar chest where she kept the linens.

"Do I need t' get anything else out of here?" he asked as he pulled several sheets out. "A blanket, perchance?"

"Yes." She closed her eyes. "Hurry up please, it's time."

Jack nodded, though he looked distinctly ill-at-ease. He quickly set the sheets down on the bed next to Elizabeth and then lifted her onto the clean sheets. "I'm ready when you are." He looked horribly uncomfortable with the entire situation. It said a lot about his character that he hadn't just left.

"Good." She smiled very weakly. "Tha-" Her gratitude was cut off by a moan as she started pushing. Apparently this baby wanted to escape for the first time. Blinding pain seemed to cloud her eyes.

"Don' forget to breathe," Jack prompted anxiously as she let her head drop back until the next contraction hit. "I've heard tha's a good idea, regardless of the situation."

"Jack," she said with a strained voice. "If you don't shut up, I _will_ castrate you."

"Such animosity!" he said in a mockingly shocked voice.

"It would keep you from reproducing." She breathed heavily, grabbing onto one of the sheets as another contraction hit.

"True." He watched her silently for a moment. "Elizabeth, I'm-"

"I don't want to hear another word, Jack Sparrow," she seethed, barely able to string words together in a cohesive manner.

He nodded slightly, looking rather amused as she moved her feet to a more comfortable position. The whole idea that a little person could come out of another person was a bit laughable, especially when one considered how large a human head was at birth.

Once her contraction ended, she let go of the sheet. "Check and see if the baby's head is crowning yet, Jack." Her voice was raspy and she seemed to be getting tired.

He nodded and lifted her skirts up. "Not quite," he said, an interested look shining in his dark brown eyes. He'd seen plenty of women who happened to be naked, but he'd never seen anything like this before. "One more push and the head should be near the end."

She nodded, taking a deep, sobbing breath before bearing down and pushing once more. It hurt far worse than she remembered.

"It's crowned," he announced. "Keep pushing."

"I can't."

"Yes you can." He looked up at her in concern. "Elizabeth, luv, if you can get a child to nearly be out wiv only fourty or so minutes of hard labor, ye can get it out the rest of the way."

"It hurts."

"Anything worthwhile does. Just push."

Tears leaked from her eyes as her body told her to push. She breathed deeply and pushed again. There was a tremendous amount of pressure and then relief as the baby slid out. The relief was short-lived, however. She looked up to see the child and was alarmed to see it purple. The umbilical cord was wrapped firmly around its neck. "Oh no," she sobbed. Another stillborn. She'd wanted this baby to be alive, even if she did hate its father.

Jack looked at the small creature for a second or two and then quickly unwrapped the cord, flipping the baby over and smacking it on the bottom a few times. It clearly wasn't breathing. "Come on," he pleaded, smacking it again. The baby remained a dusky color for another fearful moment before screaming like a wet kitten.

"Is it…alright?"

"As near as I can tell." Jack smiled slightly and cut the cord. "I'm no doctor." He gently cleaned the outside of the red creature and then wrapped it up in a blanket. The baby started to cry with a louder and stronger voice.

"What is it?"

"A girl." He stared at the baby for a moment, a curious look in his dark eyes. "A rather squished and red child, t' be certain, but she has all ten fingers an' toes an' a pair of healthy lungs." He gently stroked her cheek and then handed her up to Elizabeth. "Good job."

"Thank you." She gently kissed the child.

"Is there anythin' else you need me t' do?"

"No." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Not that I can think of. The afterbirth should come on its own."

He nodded and then slowly stood. "In tha' case, I'll be going now."

She watched, unable to say anything, as he started down the staircase. He was finally doing what she'd asked him to do but wasn't all that sure it was what she wanted. Saddened, a few tears of joy mingled with what she hoped would be her last tears of sorrow over that infuriatingly stubborn pirate. She didn't love him…even though the thought of never hearing him again filled her with pain. He wanted nothing to do with her and had used her and she was better off without him.

She sighed softly and kissed the baby, who was falling asleep. "Figures," she said softly. "He didn't even bring the cradle up here." Exhausted, she set the baby down on the mattress beside her and waited, half expecting the pirate to come up the stairs with the cradle. He didn't, even after she made a mess of the sheets by delivering the placenta. Too tired to keep her eyes open, she fell asleep.

* * *

_howlongmustiwait: _Muahahaha. Jack, do the "right" thing? That wouldn't make sense. He's a pirate. And I'm evil. Since I'm the evil author, you probably won't get your happy ending. But we'll see, eh? Stubborn streaks are more difficult than soap scum that's been on a bathroom floor for twenty years to break through, I've decided. But there's always a glimmer of hope to everything, isn't there? And I'm glad you noticed how Jack knew how long he'd been away. That's important. It was different before, but it's important because it shows something. Jack has been counting the days.  
And, that's a good idea. However, I'm doing this story in third-person limited, not omniscient. That means we can only see into Elizabeth's head. And only when I feel like it, because it's almost a dramatic sort of point of view, like me describing what's happening on a stage. It would be nice to see into Jack's head. But it can be scary in there sometimes. If you're terribly curious...check out my 'Ello Beastie story. It's written with Jack as the main character and you get to hear a lot of Jack's thoughts. Not direct thoughts, though, 'cause I don't like doing that, but I will eventually get to the part where I explain CotBP and DMC...so...yeah. Shameless advertising, there, but it's pretty good.  
_Daisy:_ Yep, formulaic. All romances are. Yep. I've read a lot of them. You either end up with the two main characters together or apart. Apart seems to be the norm for tragedies. Haven't yet figured why... I agree with you. Elizabeth should shoot Jack or something. However, I've already got the end written and no one dies. Though, that might be cool. Kill off Jack. Wonder how many people would pelt me. Maybe I really don't have the end written after all. It would be even more soap opera-like for something else to happen after what I've got for the "end" of the story. And I think you could do a better job than me writing this. Your ideas are so much more interesting and less expected. Which is apparently good, according to my creative writing teacher. That class is really weird. I have a character sketch due on Friday. Bet he resembles a pirate. Or not. Hmmm... I can't decide. You could write that for me too. Then I could go insane and live in a padded room where my twitching won't be mocked. Yep. Good plan.  
_dugadugabowbow_: Sorry 'bout the wait. Thanks for the review though! I hope I didn't upset you too much...  
_Jessica_: I'm glad you find it so captivating. Hope I continue to live up to your expectations. Thanks for the review!! 


	18. Chapter Eighteen: The Name

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be writing this. Never have, never will. Nope. Unless I somehow take over Disney…hmmm…

_Author's Note (10/26/06)_: I hate MLA. There, I've said it. I just spent the last two hours making sure my citations were done correctly. Still not sure if they were. I mean, there's not much information out there as to how you put something that you quote that was quoted in a book that got that book from somewhere else in your works cited page… Enough about me, though. I tweaked the last chapter slightly. I'd forgotten that I said the labor only lasted twenty minutes. 'Tis a bit unrealistic, I agree, so I upped the time. Probably should've added a little more, but I was too busy thinking about how to cite things and what my peers will say while reading my mostly pointless essay. I swear every essay you write on someone else's work is pointless. We don't know why they chose one word over another because we're not them! Gah! Sorry. Ranting again. Hope you enjoy this little episode, here…I think the next one is the final chapter. Unless, of course, there's great tumult or I think of a way to throw in a man-eating tiger…  
As a side note, the whole Fanfiction being slow with their e-mails lately is very frustrating. And I don't like naming chapters. So there.

**Chapter Eighteen: The Name**

"Mama!" John yelled as he reached the top stair. Elizabeth awoke with a jolt, surprised to see the sun coming through a window. Apparently she'd been asleep for quite some time. "Where beebee?"

"Shh, John," William chided loudly. "Don't wake Mama. She's tired."

"Sowwy." John reached the floor and attempted to tiptoe around the mattress.

"Why are you boys here?" Elizabeth asked softly, smiling at John's attempt to be kind. Both boys jumped in response before looking at her. She was still exhausted and felt slightly guilty for sending Jack away so quickly. He had saved the life of the baby, after all and she wasn't all that sure what it was she'd been quite so horrid towards him. She hated him and loved him and couldn't decide which ultimately was stronger. All she knew is that she'd even hated Will during childbirth. Men had no idea what sort of pain they caused in women.

John looked at his mother sorrowfully. "Missded you." He looked around the room. "Where beebee?"

She stirred and looked to her left, where she'd left the unnamed little girl before falling asleep. Overcome with worry when she didn't see the child, she sat up. The sheets had been changed. She looked frantically around the room and spotted the cradle. "When did you two get here?" she asked, trying to remember when she went down to retrieve the cradle and how she'd carried it up the stairs.

"A few minutes ago. Missus Shelby didn't make very good dinner." William's face crinkled as he looked into the cradle. "She looks funny."

"You did too when you were brand new." She yawned and stretched a bit, wincing at the pain as she did so.

"I hungwee," John announced, bored with the idea that he had a baby sister now.

"We'll eat in a moment." Elizabeth paled at the thought of getting up and resuming a routine life again. She certainly wasn't as young and fit as she used to be, especially since she'd been battling depression throughout the entire pregnancy. Something William said finally hit her as she watched him look at his new sister. "How did you know you have a sister?"

"I can't say. I promised not to."

"Pi-yacht an." John beamed proudly before sticking his finger up his nose. He had yet to grasp the concept of secrets.

"John, don't put your finger up there," Elizabeth said automatically. "Where is the pirate?" She didn't know if she was upset or grateful. Jack apparently hadn't left.

They both shrugged. "You won't tell him I told you, right?" William asked worriedly.

"Of course not. You didn't tell me." She smiled. "What should we name your new little sister?"

"Buttercup." William glanced towards the cradle for a moment.

She nearly laughed. "Where did you get that name?" she asked as seriously as possible.

He shrugged. "It's pretty."

"Well…I'll think about it."

"Ee-yah." John looked at the cradle too. "Ee-yah beebee." He grinned broadly as he looked to his mother, clearly pleased by his sudden inspiration for a name.

"Ee-yah is a bit hard to spell." Elizabeth smiled. "I'll think about it."

"That always means no," William informed his brother with a sigh. Being the older of the two, he already knew how adults generally functioned and certainly knew what phrases Elizabeth used truly meant. "I think Buttercup would be a good name."

"It would be. But it would be a very long name for her to remember."

"I hungwee," John reminded her, bored with the topic.

"I was thinking something like Amelia." She glanced over at the cradle herself. There was silence in the room for a moment.

"Come on, John. Mama doesn't love us anymore because of the baby," William remarked as he looked at Elizabeth.

John started to cry. "Mama don' love?"

"Thank you, William," Elizabeth said exasperatedly. "I still love both of you very much."

"Then don't marry the Admiral. He's not your happily-ever-after."

"How do you know about that?" William merely sniffled. "Come here." She motioned both children forward. They climbed onto the mattress and into her arms. "I love you two. You're my boys. I _just_ want you to have a papa. I certainly can't teach you to be a brave man."

"I don't want one." William started crying. "I had one."

She sighed and gently stroked his head. "I know," she said soothingly. "And he won't replace your father." She was about to say more when the baby started crying. "Where's Jack?" she asked softly. "I need to feed your sister."

"He said he's not coming up here. You don't want him here. He tolded me that."

"Stubborn pirate," she murmured under her breath. "Fine. Take John downstairs and ask Jack to get you something to eat. Once he's done that, ask him to come up here."

William nodded, though he was still crying. He took John's hand and went back down the stairs.

Elizabeth slowly stood, walking to the cradle slowly so that she didn't fall. She picked up her daughter and then walked slowly to the rocking chair, trying to ignore the pounding of her head. She sat down and started rocking, nursing the baby as she did so. This all seemed to be a dream. She would wake up and would still be pregnant.

As she was rocking, Jack came up the stairs and stopped on the last stair, leaning against the wall. "What d' ye want?" he asked softly, avoiding looking at her or their nursing child. "Goin' t' throw me out again? I'm not leaving. Ye need help for at least three days. Been asleep since yesterday."

She was silent for a moment, merely rocking back and forth. "Why did you stay?"

Jack stared at her curiously. He'd been expecting another verbal argument. "I wanted to give you a proper bedding again, as a farewell present, before you throw your life away by marrying the Admiral. Wanted t' give you another taste of me." He grinned conceitedly, a look in his eyes suggesting that this was as far from the truth than anything he'd ever uttered before.

She glared at him for a moment, missing the look in his eyes. "I'm not throwing my life away, Jack."

"Yes you are." The captain sighed softly. "Why can't you see that? He'll be just as bad a match for ye as Will was."

"Jack, it isn't your place to say what's best for me." She smiled very slightly. "I'm a grown woman, capable of making my own mistakes and decisions."

He looked at her skeptically, careful to keep his eyes above her chin. Really, he showed quite a lot of self-restraint. "We're peas in a pod, luv. Why can't you see _that_?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Jack, you can't offer me anything other than a good bedding."

"Do you really need much more?"

"I need stability, Jack." She sighed softly, glancing down at their daughter. "They need stability. Can't get that aboard a pirate ship. I know what they're like."

Jack looked at his hand for a moment. He looked surprisingly thin and tired in the light. "Is that all you think I'm offering?"

"Isn't it?"

Jack frowned. "Right." He sighed and rubbed at one of his cheeks before moving his hand in a grandiose gesture. "I stayed because she's my daughter too. Yer stubbornness would've made her first few days on this earth miserable."

She stared at the baby for a moment, choosing to make no comment because she sensed that wasn't the real reason.

"You need me." He sighed softly and leaned against a wall. "Darling James isn't here t' do this for you an' you're conveniently alone when ye need help the most. Will's dead." The look in her eyes prompted him to look down at his hands. "And it's my fault you have all this added stress," he further qualified.

"Why does that bother you? You didn't know about her."

"Because." He fidgeted slightly. "I'm not going to say it, Elizabeth. I don' often like to waste words on someone close to me." He started down the first stair before stopping and walking back up. "I'll be gone before ye know it, I promise, an' you can have your mediocre-ever-after wivout my interference," he announced.

"Wait." Elizabeth couldn't believe he was even discussing this. She'd convinced herself that he didn't care at all for her. If he had truly cared, he would've sent a letter or something. He wouldn't have waited nearly nine months to visit.

Jack paused.

She thought for a moment, urging her eyes to stop stinging. "What would you name her?"

"Cora." He looked at her for a moment sadly as though he were expecting something else and then finally grinned, unable to resist staring at her exposed bosom. She glared at him and so he went downstairs to tidy up and watch the boys.

* * *

_Jessica:_ Thanks for leaving a review! I like knowing I have reviewers. Yep. Hope you liked this chapter.  
_crazy4fred_: Thanks for saying something and welcome to the elite club of those who have reviewed on my work. Hope you enjoy your stay and continue your membership by leaving another review. I'm glad you've liked it so much an' I hope you enjoyed this newest chapter.  
_howlongmustiwait_: As I said, I don't know much about the whole birth thing. Thank you for your personal experience, I'll be able to use that in the future so that I'm less unrealistic in my writing. All part of the research process. Yep. My sister-in-law wasn't in actual labor for very long before my niece was born, which was nice because she went into false labor more than once... Anyway, thanks for correcting me.  
It would be rather awesome if Jack kidnapped Elizabeth...but it probably won't happen. Unless, of course, you pester me enough. In which case... Yes, he has been a bit wimpy, I agree, but he's not often around pregnant women and the common thought for the day was that they were fragile creatures. Plus he was a bit out of his element, delivering a baby. Add to that the guilt that he put her in such a condition and that he's realizing he's not wanted... I hope you do like this chapter, though, even if they do skirt around the real topic several times.  
Thank you once again for such an interesting review! I look forward to reading yours for every chapter. It's like a game, me sitting at my computer and checking my e-mail as often as possible... Ha, that makes me sound a bit obsessive.  
_Daisy_: Maybe I can just send mean e-mails to all of your professors about posting your homework a week in advance. It sounds like it truly would help you out. All I can say is, I'm envious of how well you seem to be handling all the demands on your time. I probably couldn't do it.  
Yes, it was short. I changed it but still didn't make the labor time long enough, really. Mostly because it would mean extra work for me...or would introduce more conversation than I want. I don't know. I'll probably go back and really fix it later. And...her mood does seem a bit extreme. It's remnants from the two different versions of the previous chapter I had and consolidated into one, apparently with issues. My reasoning behind it is thus: he exceeds her expectation by returning, which is all fine and dandy, so she reacts favorably until she remembers the fact that he left in the first place and becomes quite bitter. Also, she's trying to reconcile the fact that she's engaged to another man and has a shot at happiness while confronting a man she still loves...or thinks she might love. Emotions are complicated buggers that make no rational sense. Really, she's feeling the way that I feel in my personal life, just condensed. I'm selfish, I write to try and figure things out for myself. Well, this one, at least. It's all just been me exploring feelings. Not that you needed to know that, because it doesn't matter, ultimately, but I do agree that it sounds a little choppy.  
And...of course he was hiding downstairs. You were good to pick up on that. Sounds like something I'd do in a role play, doesn't it? I hope your time doesn't melt away without you getting everything accomplished that you need to accomplish.  
_dugadugabowbow_: Thanks for the review! I hope you enjoyed how Jack did come back. And I hope to hear from you again. 


	19. Chapter Nineteen: The Monologue

Disclaimer: Nope, still can't use these characters. Hopefully Disney is ignoring the gnat that is this story, or I'm going to be quite poor soon. Not that I'm not poor already…

_Author's Note (10/31/06)_: Happy Halloween! Sorry for the long delay in getting this chapter up. I went home over the weekend to spend time with my family and to forget about _The Waste Land_, temporarily. Of course, as a result, I have to finish my paper in a few hours today… And I'm tired. But that's inconsequential. 'Tis my own fault I forgot about the presentation I have on coordination and subordination in my grammar class. I'll probably have to leave for said class before I'm able to put this up.  
Anyway…I noticed a lot of discontent with my last chapter in regards to how Jack was acting. Which makes sense, he was a bit out of character, but I hope this maybe explains why that is. If not, well, go ahead an' roast me alive for breaking his character. I'm doing my best, but I do apologize. He's on vacation right now, which is why I haven't been updating 'Ello Beastie, either. One can only hope he'll be back soon so I can stop making him all considerate and the like. I mean, yeesh…  
If you don't like this chapter, tell me. It's been written for over a week, now. I have put a lot of thought into writing another chapter after this…or maybe starting a new story where this leaves off. Tell me your preference. Also tell me if you plan to tar and feather me because of what happens. I'd like to get prepared for that. I've heard it's uncomfortable. Of course, it would be rather warm an' it's kind of cold here… Maybe I want to be tarred and feathered. Yes. No. I don't. Forget tarring and feathering. Pelting me with marshmallows would be okay. Or candy.

**Chapter Nineteen: The Monologue**

"'Ello there, little one," a voice said very softly, waking Elizabeth from a hazy dream. She stirred and turned slightly, peeking out of her nearly cemented eyes. It was dark and she saw Jack's outline standing near the cradle, his head turning from side to side as he tried to find a potential threat. She closed her eyes and feigned sleep, breathing deeply until he seemed less jumpy. He calmed down and stared into the cradle for a long while.

"I'm your father." His voice was incredibly low and thoughtful as he cast a quick glance towards Elizabeth, to ensure she was asleep. "You'll pro'lly never know tha', of course. Your mum isn't very thrilled wiv me." He sighed softly. "I'm sorry. I would've been 'ere before to help your mum, but I was I prison for five months an' traveling the other three." He smiled slightly, arranging the blanket on the baby so she'd be warmer even though the night was perfectly warm. "I was a real mess in there. I came back as soon as I could, but it was obviously too late."

Now that Elizabeth thought about it, Jack seemed rather pale and thin. She'd been avoiding him for the past three days as though he were a rat carrying the plague. Respecting her wishes, he'd stayed below. As a result, she hadn't seen much of him since going into labor. But she seemed to remember that he also had a few new scars on his face and hands. She felt bad for not noticing before.

"No happily-ever-after for me. I knew tha', though. Silly for me t' hope anything would be different. I'll jus'…" He trailed off for a moment, glancing over to where Elizabeth lay. "I guess I haven't told you everything, eh? Maybe I should start where I lef'. I was a coward, like your mum believes. I was terrified. Las' time I fell in love wiv a girl, she ended up dead, an', far worse, heartbroken. I wanted t' leave before your mum _really_ fell in love with me. To protect her, of course. I'm a pirate, ye see, wiv quite a lot of enemies. I would never be able t' live wiv meself if Elizabeth was hurt because of me or by one of me enemies or doing somethin' I asked her to do. So I took the easy way out."

Elizabeth had to stop herself from yelling at Jack. So he had just left because he was a coward. She'd been right all along. He'd probably just come back because he'd promised and would have likely left right away if he hadn't felt guilty about her condition. She was too curious to hear what he had to say to interrupt him now, even if her insides were seething as though she'd swallowed a thousand maggots.

"I met up wiv my ship, the _Black_ _Pearl_, before they left Tortuga for Curacao. Being a pirate captain, I've become rather good at not sayin' or doin' things _I_ want t' do. So we din' turn around, like I wanted, an' continued on our way. I realize now tha' I should have listened t' that gnawing hunger in the back of me mnd, bu' I'm not able t' change the past, unfortunately. I'm workin' on it, though." He chuckled softly. "Ye'd think I'd learn from past. Then again, I'm not as smart as yer mum is. Hopefully you get mostly everything from her."

He paused as he gently touched the baby's cheek. "We arrived in Curacao wivout a fuss. I had some urgent business t' attend to, you see, in a tavern. Plus I was a bit on the lonely side…I had one too many drinks, tried to sleep wiv the wrong woman, and ended up making a room full o' belligerent enemies. One of them graciously gave me a scar on me face." He pointed to the scar running from his lip to his chin. "Soldiers saw the mixup and I was suddenly in the custody of the Dutch. They threw me in'o prison for disturbin' the peace." He chuckled. "I get thrown into prison a lot. Certainly wasn' a new situation. The only new thing about it was that there was literally no way t' escape. One of those oubliettes." The baby stirred slightly, making a soft noise that could almost be interpreted as questioning. "An oubliette is basically jus' a hole in the ground. You put people in there t' forget about them. Comes from _oublier_, which means t' forget in French. Bet ye din' know that your father can speak French fairly fluently. An' Greek. Hindi. A little Italian. I read Spanish an' Portuguese decently. Oh…an' I know a little Latin. Not that it matters. Obviously won' be able to teach them t' ye."

Elizabeth was slightly surprised. She knew that Jack had to be intelligent, because he caught on to ideas and concepts quickly for a man who spent a lot of his time drunk, but she never knew that he knew all those languages. Then again, she knew nothing about his past. He knew nothing about her. It would never work. The chances he'd ever let her get to know him as much as he seemed to know her already were slim to none.

"Gibbs an' the crew escaped. I've no idea where they are. Pro'lly think I'm dead. Fortunately, the Dutch couldn't decide on how to kill me, so they kept me there until they forgot I was a prisoner. While yer mum was eating strawberry pastries, I was lef' wiv very little food an' water. I very nearly went insane. Not because of the lack o' food, of course, bu' because of the fact I only had me for company. Probably would 'ave lost it all, if I hadn't thought about your mum." He was silent for a moment. "I don't think she wants to hear my excuses, though. Seems t' have managed fine wivout me. Tha's why I'm going to leave. I was goin t' try and change me ways, bu' I suppose I'm too old for that. I'll jus' vanish and find my missing ship. It's what your mum wants, apparently. I can't offer _stability_ like Admiral, e'en if I came here directly from being forgotten about. Didn't bother trying to find the _Pearl_, yet. Maybe I jus' can't change enough." He laughed softly. "Don' become your future step-father, savvy? That'd be a great travesty."

The baby started to cry. Jack picked her up and started gently rocking her. It did nothing to assuage her discomfort. "Oh…I suppose ye want a clean nappy an' a meal," he remarked as he noticed the wet spot on his shirt. Apparently her diaper had leaked. Rather than waking Elizabeth, he went over to where Elizabeth kept the diapers and changed her diaper. It was clear he didn't have much skill changing diapers, but he did know what he was doing. The baby cried through the entire operation. Once she was all cleaned up, he walked to where Elizabeth was. She sat up. "Did you hear all tha'?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

"Yes. It'd make yer decision a lot easier t' swallow on my part." He handed the baby to her.

"Jack…" Elizabeth sighed, carefully positioning her blouse and the baby so she would be able to eat well without choking. "I don't know if I can trust you."

"I know." He smiled slightly, his eyes hardly visible in the dim light. She imagined he would have a pained look to them, based on his monologue, but suspected he knew she'd heard the entire thing. The captain had a nonchalant quality to his voice. "I'm too old t' learn new tricks, anyway."

She looked at him for a moment, suddenly feeling absolutely horrible. This was the only solution that made sense, though. Smiling slightly, she said, "Plus you smell terrible. I'm afraid you'd teach William and John bad hygiene was acceptable."

"I understand." He sounded crushed as he started towards the staircase. "If you didn' 'ave children…would it be different?"

"I would have run away with you without a second thought." She sighed softly, ashamed that she'd admitted such a thing. "Jack…there was a time I was able to do that and you turned me down. You've hurt me one too many times."

"I couldn't come back for you. I was in prison. Ask the baby. She knows." He seemed to cling to the idea that she would have run off with him as though it were saving him from drowning.

"But you left." Tears pricked her eyes as she motioned towards the stairs by tilting her head. Actions said so much more than words.

"I understand." He slowly stepped that way, his boots clopping on the wooden floor. "Very well. I'll leave. Jus' promise me you won' let Norrington's stuffy behavior overwhelm you or the knits. An' take her to the beach often." He thought for a second. "An' consider telling her the truth."

She nodded. "I will."

"Goodbye, Elizabeth." He stepped back towards her, leaned down, and kissed her longingly. "I wish you happiness with the cat."

"Cat?" Her eyebrow rose quizzically as she tried to keep the kiss from overwhelming her. She had to keep her head. It would never work. He would get bored of her, he would abandon her, and he wouldn't be there when she needed him most.

Of course, she chose not to see the fact that he was always there when she needed him most. He'd saved her life when no one else could have after she fell from the cliffs. He had bothered trying to understand her, to believe her, when they'd been trapped on that island together. He had indirectly saved her from marrying Norrington before Will the day he'd nearly been hung. The pirate had taken her aboard his ship to help right the wrong he'd done against Will by finding the chest of Davy Jones. He'd protected her from Jones' dreaded pirates. He had helped her discover a lot about herself that she'd only slightly suspected before he'd wobbled his way into her life. He'd come back to save her life when the kraken attacked. He'd gone so far as to sacrifice his life for her safety and well-being, as well as his ship, and had never been upset by the fact that she'd chained him to his ship. After being brought back from the dead, he'd managed to pull himself together to help defeat Davy Jones and Cutler Beckett, facilitating the release of her father and the opportunity for her to be married after all. And then he'd been there when she needed someone most of all. She couldn't afford to think of those things. She had to think of him as a womanizer or she would never be able to live another day without him. He was a horrid example for her children and she could not take them to live with him aboard a ship. His actions just weren't enough of an example of his feelings for her.

Jack chuckled softly. "He's the cat. I'm the cockroach. I understand why ye chose him. He's fluffy an' generally nice."

She laughed very softly. "You certainly are an attractive cockroach, Captain Jack Sparrow."

"I know." He grinned. "Would it be alright if I wrote t' her?"

Elizabeth looked surprised. "I won't stop you, Jack."

"Good." He stroked her cheek gently and then reached down towards her exposed chest. She flinched slightly. "Relax." He gently stroked the baby's cheek. "I'm not _always_ vulgar. Jus' generally." He chuckled as his finger moved from the baby's cheek to Elizabeth's chest. It was impossible for him to resist doing such a thing. She shivered slightly, forcing herself to glare up at him. He moved his hand, leaned down, and kissed her once more. "G'bye, pirate."

"Goodbye." Desperately trying not to think of how nice his kisses were, she smiled sadly. "I always knew you were a good man."

"But not a saint." He smirked. "I'll always be available as a bed warmer if things don' work out with the cat. Jus' say the word an' I'll appear in the dead of night to spice yer life up a bit."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Once ye get a taste o' me…" He trailed off suggestively. "Au revoir, chèrie." With that, he pivoted on his right foot and walked down the stairs and out the house, quietly shutting the front door as the darkness enveloped him.

She stared at the empty stairwell for a long moment as a small stab of pain hit her heart. She hadn't expected him to ever come back and she'd pushed him out the door. Then again, she couldn't be selfish. She had three small children to watch out for, to give them the best possible future. And that couldn't be with Jack. Sighing, she looked down at the baby. She was staring up at her mother. "That's the last time you'll see your father." Her voice was gentle. "I wish you could meet him. He's a very good man. But he'd be a poor father. Please don't hate me for what I did." She would have a hard enough time not hating herself.

She carefully moved the infant to burp her. "He did give me what I wanted most, though: a beautiful healthy baby girl." She gently rubbed the baby's back until she burped. "I hope you're just like him, Cora."

* * *

_howlongmustiwait_: I can say denial. It's pretty easy to say, actually. Makes a good joke when used with Cleopatra. And yes, they're both in denial. Jack thinks that Elizabeth doesn't love him, Elizabeth thinks that Jack doesn't love her.   
I admit that Jack is acting out of character, but I hope it makes more sense now. He's suffering from mild depression. He spent five months in a dark hole with nothing but thoughts as a companion and undoubtedly had all sorts of interesting scenarios run through his mind, but when he finally did return to Elizabeth, he found her engaged to another man and apparently hating him. He's not acting like himself, but he is acting like himself: he's making the best of a situation, just like he did with the kraken. There was no way he was going to escape death which is why he decided to go out heroically. Jack is always looking for ways out of things. If he finds no way, he pulls it off to the best of his ability. For instance, the cannibal scene. He didn't just go ahead and offer himself up so that his crew would have a little more time to escape as the cannibals ate him. Instead, he tried to escape more than once. He's escaping a potentially problematic situation right now by leaving as Elizabeth asked him to do so. I get the impression that Jack does not like to confront his feelings, which is why he never really knows what he wants after he gets his ship back. It took him seven years from getting the compass to getting the Pearl back. There has to be some reason he waited because he gave up his very soul for that ship. One would assume he would've tried to get it back before ten years were up. The reaction Barbossa and his crew give him indicate that they thought he was dead. He escaped from the situation, thought about it, and then decided on the best course of action to get the Pearl back. Of course, I might be out to lunch here. Or I'm just trying to upset as many people as possible by having Jack leave once more. We shall see, I suppose.  
You do have some very valid points. Elizabeth is not acting like herself, either, by letting points drop and not challenging Jack when he says something dreadfully suggestive or important. She's desperately trying to keep a reason for him to leave because of how much he complicates her life up. She knew she wanted him in Dead Man's Chest but chained him to the mast anyway for the good of all, which is why she's sending him away. She's protecting her children.   
I'm glad you like the name Cora. I do too. It's very pretty. I chose it because it was once on the cast list for Dead Man's Chest on IMDB. Cora Sparrow. She was a little girl. Anyway...you're right with John's phrase. Don't worry about not understanding toddler, I hardly understand it myself when I'm around my niece. There are just somethings that make no sense whatsoever that she says... As for your final note...well, don't worry. I'm starting to formulate something inside my rather terrifying mind to use in the future.  
_Daisy_: Right. Dictionary. "Pi-yacht an""pirate man"; "Sowwy""sorry"; "beebee""baby"; and "Ee-yah""Lydia" (as a side note, Lydia wanted to call Adelle Buttercup when she was born and Adelle calls Lydia "Ee-yah"). I suppose I should just do it like Lemony Snicket does for Sunny. Of course, Sunny is a very intelligent baby and can say a lot in just a few compact syllables, which isn't how Adelle talks. Not that I really know anymore, as I don't get to see Adelle much. She's added to her repertoire of songs to sing and is now speaking in nearly complete sentences, as of this last weekend. The phonetic alphabet would have been a good idea. Too bad my ideas aren't very good. Such as the way Jack treated Elizabeth. Apparently not a good idea. Oh well. I can't be full of semi-good ones all the time. At least he isn't a werewolf addicted to drugs suffering from clinical depression.  
_Jessica_: Aye, Cora is a pretty name. Means heart or maiden in Greek. Rather applicable. Jack left his heart in Port Royal. Ha. Hope you liked this new chapter.  
_bumblebee_: I had no idea that Cora was another name for zit. That's disgusting. Jack didn't mean that connotation when he suggested it, I promise, as he's been to the Mediterranean and it is a Greek name. Thank you for telling me that and offering your opinion, though. 


	20. Chapter Twenty: The Realization

Disclaimer: I don't have permission to be using these characters.

_Author's Note (12/10/06)_: Ha. I bet you thought that I was done with The Token, dincha? Sorry for the long delay between the last chapter and this one. Life has a habit of getting in the way of things that are fun for one to do, doesn't it? This chapter isn't entirely necessary to The Token…I'm really just throwing it in so that I can shamelessly tell you that I've started the sequel. Actually, I just put it online. It's called Ward the Pirate and is told from Jack's perspective. I know, I know, the title is a bit odd, but as The Token is the title of an old song they used to sing at sea, I decided to follow the precedent and do the same thing with the sequel. I'd like to hear your overall impressions of The Token in your review, if you'd be so kind as to leave one, and hope you've enjoyed the story thus far. Tomorrow is my three year anniversary since I started posting stories about Jack Sparrow…crazy, no? As a result, I should be posting something. Which is really insane, because finals are next week and I've all sorts of projects to finish…but whatever. It's been fun!

**Chapter Twenty: The Realization**

Elizabeth awoke with a start the next morning with vague recollections of a horrid dream. Tears stained her cheeks from the emotional trauma of whatever it had been bothering her and she felt like a fool as she reached up to brush some of them away. It took several minutes for the residual sadness to disappear and for her to realize why she was up as early as she was. Cora's cries from the cradle seemed several hundred yards away in the stillness of early morning. Once they penetrated her mind, she slowly sat up and then stood, heading to the cradle to soothe her newest child.

"There there," she said softly, picking the infant carefully up. "You'll wake the whole household being so noisy, and I don't think you really want to see your brothers cranky." She gently kissed Cora's forehead. The baby started to calm, but was obviously hungry. She sat down in the rocking chair not too far away from the cradle and started to nurse the baby.

Several moments passed before Elizabeth realized she was trying to hear movement downstairs. She doubted that Jack would truly leave so easily, for part of her knew that he loved her very much, and so she expected to have him come upstairs any moment to make fun of her or to offer her breakfast. However, as Cora fed and then fell back asleep, Elizabeth realized that just wasn't going to be the case. If he was still in her home, he was probably asleep down on the couch or floor. She felt horrible for never offering him somewhere nice to sleep after he'd returned from prison like that.

She sat the sleeping Cora back down in the cradle and then quietly started down the stairs, fixing her dress as she came down the very last one. It was very dark, but her eyes adjusted quickly to the small amount of light filtering in from the stars through the window. "Jack?" she asked in a whisper, her voice carrying a blind hope that he would answer.

Only silence greeted her coolly. Not entirely satisfied, she went to the front part of the house and looked on the floor and couch. There was no hint of the captain anywhere there. Then she went to the kitchen. The dishes were all done and put away in their proper place, but there was no sign of an infamous pirate. On a whim, she pulled the key to the spare room out of a desk drawer and checked inside it. It had been dusted and cleaned a bit, but Jack wasn't in there.

"Oh," she remarked, as it hit her he really was gone. Unbidden, tears started streaming down her cheeks. "He really is gone." Somehow saying it made it that much more final. She really hadn't meant to get rid of him…or had she? She couldn't remember. She didn't know what she wanted. The thought of never seeing him again was like the thought of a perpetually cold winter. At the same time, she knew that this was for the best. Jack would have never been fully content without the _Pearl_, and there seemed to be no logical way for him to have a family and a ship. In the long run, she'd saved herself from more pain.

Still, the thought at never seeing him again seemed to pierce her soul. She staggered backward from the spare room, stumbling as she tried to get her legs to work. She ended up sitting on the floor, staring at the front door. This feeling was almost as bad as when her world had crumbled after Will's death and was akin to what she'd felt after sending Jack to his death. She'd willingly chosen this fate for herself. As tears wetted her cheeks, she determined to never find herself in this position again. Love was a stupid, idealistic sort of thing that only ever led to pain, anguish, and suffering. She would marry Admiral Norrington and she would never allow herself to feel such an emotion ever again. She'd been burned by love and didn't think her skin was thick enough to handle another round. Hatred would take its place nicely, and eventually that would fade to apathy.

She would never be the same again. How could she? She'd loved Captain Jack Sparrow and had been played just like any other woman he'd ever put his dirty fingers on. She'd pushed him away for good and all she could do was put on a happy face for her children. They, representing the future, were all that mattered. The Admiral would offer her a good home and reasonably good company for the rest of her life.

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_Jessica_: I'm glad that you liked Jack being such a nice guy, and that you left a review. Thank you for the support.  
_crazy4fred_: I'm glad you've enjoyed this story so much. I apologize for taking so long to update. Life is generally evil when it gets in the way. Maybe I should just be institutionalized...then I'd have all the time in the world to make up stories... 


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